The Story of Harvey - chapter 3
The story so far: As a young man at an English university, Harvey did a favour
for a fellow student, an Arab who went on to inherit great wealth and power as
Sheikh of a small, obscure but oil-rich middle-eastern state. The Sheikh, who
has a very sadistic nature where females are concerned, has in gratitude invited
Harvey and other male friends to his remote palace where his sadistic "handlers"
mete out harsh treatments to beautiful women lured by false promises of riches.
The tour continues.......
As the party of guests made their way up the corridor, the muted strains of
classical music accompanying their progress made sharp contrast to the
ear-splitting shrieks and sobs they had left behind in the last room. They
followed their guide Khaled for some distance before approaching a set of
polished oak twin doors. As before, the guide swung open the doors and ushered
the party inside. Harvey expected the familiar sounds of women in extreme
distress to fill the air once more as another product of the Sheikh's twisted
imagination unfolded before them. However, they were surprised at the silence
that greeted them as they all filed in.
Three identical exercise cycles stood side by side facing them in the room, upon
each of which sat a female rider. The riders wore nothing except teetering black
stiletto heeled court shoes; stiff leather bondage collars, cut high under the
chin to force the head up and slightly back; and black leather discipline
helmets. The helmets were buckled up tightly so as to cover the heads like a
second skin, leaving just two small nostril holes for breathing purposes. They
incorporated ball gags and earplugs, the latter showing evidence of tiny
built-in earphones for receiving instructions via a short-wave radio system. It
was obvious why silence had greeted the guests when entering the room. The
riders were in sensory deprivation - they could not see, make no sound nor hear
anything other than what was said to them over their personal earpiece.
The wrists of each woman were cuffed and shackled to the handlebars of the
cycles. Likewise tight straps ensured spike-heeled shoes and pedals were
inseparable. A small steel ring built into the top of each helmet was clipped to
a metal bar running just above the heads of the riders. This ensured each woman
was forced to maintain a "proper" cycling stance at all times.
Each cycle was numbered. The rider astride number 3 was a black woman, the other
two were white. Harvey noticed that they were all very shapely and probably aged
in their twenties. As he went around the back of the machines, he saw
modifications had been made. The saddles had been removed and the supporting
strut replaced by one that curved forward and upward to finish about a foot in
front of the normal position. A padded support for the upper leg area was
substituted for a saddle, incorporating straps buckled over the thighs as an
additional restraint. These were necessarily of rubber which would stretch with
the up and down motion of the rider's legs. As a result, the buttocks and
genitals (with all traces of hair removed, which was standard practice in the
palace) were left free and unencumbered at the rear for whatever treatment was
deemed appropriate.
On a raised platform behind the riders sat the controller, a very fat bearded
Arab. Khaled greeted him in English and Harvey was at first surprised that the
man spoke it perfectly - until he remembered that the all the luckless women in
the Sheikh's palace were English or American and they would of course need to
understand their instructions. The controller had in front of him on the desk a
small microphone tuned to the ear-piece of each individual rider, or all of them
if need be. In front of the desk was a concave line of chairs for the guests,
allowing them a fine view of the riders' hindquarters. Facing each cycle,
mounted above head height on stands were circular dials which recorded the
number of revolutions per minute pedalled. A red line was marked at both 120rpm
and 60rpm.
Two familiar figures entered and spoke to the controller. The guests were
surprised to see their earlier acquaintances Adam and Eve, the gym instructors
from the last room visited. They were in charge of discipline during the
forthcoming session. Adam held a slim, steel rod about a metre long which
tapered to become very thin and flexible towards the end. Harvey thought it was
probably the top part of a tank radio aerial. Eve meanwhile looked an erotic
sight with her white top and shorts contrasting with her dusky skin and her
hands encased in elbow-length white leather gloves. She held a long whippy
riding crop as she walked along the line of helpless, quivering buttocks like an
army sergeant inspecting troops, giving each in turn a couple of experimental
taps.
Khaled ushered the guests to their chairs and they settled down to watch the
show. The controller switched on the microphone to address all three riders.
"Good morning, ladies!" he chortled. "I trust you are feeling fit and energetic!
Your first training session of the day will be a fifteen minute sprint. You are
required to maintain a minimum speed of 120 rpm, or two pedal revolutions per
second. Please begin pedalling NOW". He switched off the microphone and with
elbows on the desk, rested his chin on his hands and watched as six
stiletto-clad heels began to turn the pedals. Adam and Eve strolled along the
line as speed picked up, carefully studying the wobbling posteriors as they
jiggled and bounced enticingly. Many of the seated guests were becoming aroused
at the sight and Harvey himself felt his organ begin to stir.
No sound came from the hooded and gagged women but after a while it was evident
that they were feeling the pace. Their breathing was becoming laboured whilst
their bodies started to quiver with the effort. Leg muscles became more
prominent with the strain, leather-encased heads began to jerk and sway and
breasts heaved as they strove to maintain speed. Of course, they had no way of
telling whether they were achieving the required number of revolutions other
than their own estimates. All they could do was count to themselves and hope
that their judgement was correct.
After about seven minutes, number 1 began to flag. Speed dropped to around the
120 rpm red line, then just below it. The controller clicked on his microphone.
"Number 1! Failure to maintain speed - a penalty has been incurred". The rider
tried to shake her head despairingly but could move it only a fraction due to
her restraints. Adam meanwhile took up position and raised his arm.
THWAAAAACCCKKK! THWAAAAACCCKKK! THWAAAAACCCKKK! Three vicious strokes slashed
across the jiggling cheeks, leaving thin red lines across the white flesh that
immediately oozed tiny droplets of blood. A muffled shriek could just be heard
behind the gag. The rider faltered with the shock and pain and speed dropped
even more. "Number 1! Last opportunity to regain speed!" barked the controller.
To her credit, the trembling rider somehow managed to get her legs pumping again
and the rev counter dial eased above the dreaded red line.
After a couple more minutes number 2 succumbed from the effort of pedalling at
speed. Calves aching and lungs bursting, she had no choice but to stop, her
spiked heels freewheeling round on the pedals as speed slowed. The red line was
passed. "Number 2! For lack of effort a penalty has been incurred!" This time
Eve took up position behind the exhausted woman, stooped and peered underneath
the plump buttocks to check the exact position of the vagina. Holding the crop
in both hands under the woman's bottom, she started to beat the labia rapidly
with the leather tip. SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT!.......the guests could
clearly hear the sound of leather hitting soft, moist flesh as the crop flashed
up and down in the instructor's expert hands.
Even though the woman was tightly restrained and gagged, it was obvious from her
movements that she was in absolute agony. After about half a minute. Eve stopped
the beating. She patted the quaking buttocks and with a smile of satisfaction
walked to one side to await her next assignment. "Number 2! Continue at correct
speed!" came the order. Despite the unbearable pain, the tortured rider somehow
found the strength borne out of fear to gradually increase speed to the required
level.
Dark-skinned number 3 was quite powerfully built and was just about coping.
However, the combination of fatigue coupled with the beating meant Number 2
could not keep to the punishing pace for long and again the dial slowly swung
down to the 120 rpm line. "Number 2!" came the now familiar voice from the desk.
"You are failing to maintain speed. Slackening of effort will NOT be tolerated".
Adam strolled over to the despairing woman and stroked the jiggling buttocks in
lustful anticipation. As before, the whippy steel rod was raised; as before,
three swift blows were delivered. THWAAAACK! THWAAAACK! THWAAAACK! And, as
before, three thin red lines appeared on the white globes. The woman must have
gone into shock, as she did not even attempt to continue with her pedalling. She
merely sat fixed in her upright stance, her body shaking all over with silent
sobs.
Harvey felt his erection throbbing as he surveyed the scene in front of him.
Some of the onlookers' hands had by now disappeared inside their clothing.
Others were just happy to relax and watched contentedly at the portrayal of
female suffering presented before them.
"Number 2!" came the stern voice again. "You are not making any effort. This is
your last chance before severe punishment is necessary! " Harvey winced to
himself. If this was not 'severe punishment', then what was? The traumatised
rider somehow forced herself to resume her efforts; as the high heels pushed
wearily on the pedals, speed gradually rose and the needle climbed slowly up to
and above the red line on the dial. The guests could only admire the courage of
number 2 as, against the odds she overcame the agony of the beatings and
continued to pedal, the whipped buttocks bouncing wildly in front of the
watching men.
Only two minutes of pedalling time remained when it was the turn of number 3 to
slow and cause the needle to slip below 120 rpm. Adam's eyes lit up with
sadistic pleasure and he took up his position as the controller switched on the
microphone. "Number 3! Failure to maintain speed - a penalty has been incurred!"
Adam raised his arm. The steel rod flashed down on the dusky orbs.
THWAAAAACCCKKK!! THWAAAAACCCKKK!!
THWAAAAACCCKKK!! THWAAAAACCCKKK!! THWAAAAACCCKKK!! THWAAAAACCCKKK!! No less than
six vicious strokes! The rider writhed and shrieked silently into her gag as
pain overwhelmed her senses. Rivulets of blood began to trickle down the striped
cheeks and a stream of liquid poured onto the floor beneath as she lost control
of her bladder. But somehow, like her companion she found the willpower to get
up to speed again.
Round and round went the pedals, every revolution more difficult as the women
somehow tried to find the willpower to carry on. It was agony........sheer
agony.......it was impossiible..........
Fortunately for the women especially number 2, who by this time was totally
spent, the fifteen minutes was now up. "Fifteen minutes rest, ladies!" they
heard through their earpieces. All three would have collapsed onto the
handlebars of their cycles if it had not been for the restraint of their collars
and helmets. Instead, they sat upright, breasts heaving as they tried to regain
their breath, bodies shaking with a mix of exhaustion and wracking sobs which
went unheard behind the gags.
The guests were invited to inspect the riders during the rest period. Khaled
went to the front of number 2 and as Harvey looked on, peeled open a Velcro
panel covering her eyes. As the panel was lifted back, Harvey moved in close and
looked through the aperture. Two large, hazel-coloured eyes peered back,
pain-wracked and wet with tears.
Muffled sounds came from beneath the gag and it was evident that she was trying
to communicate with them, probably to plead for mercy - a futile gesture of
course.
"There is nothing more erotic than the tears of a woman in pain!" laughed
Khaled, Harvey nodding in agreement. The guide held the panel up for a few
moments for other guests to take a look, then pushed it back down into position
and resealed the Velcro. Meanwhile other guests had been busy feeling and
inspecting the whipped buttocks of all three, or fondling the shapely breasts
that rose and fell enticingly as the gasping women recovered their breath. They
offered no resistance, being too weak from their exertions. Even if they had
tried, they could not have done anything to prevent the men taking advantage of
them.
It was time for preparations for the next exercise. Eve approached the first
rider with something in her hand. Kneeling beneath the woman, she attached small
clamps to first one of the inner labia, then the other. The clamps themselves
were attached to thin nylon cords which ended in small loops. These cords were
left hanging down with the end sections coiled on the floor. The clamps were
tightened with tiny wing nuts until the lips were held in a vice-like grip.
Faint, anguished sounds could be heard from behind the helmet.
Once Eve had done the same with the other women, Adam came across to number 1
with a small cylindrical roller on metal brackets which clipped into holes in
the floor beneath her bottom; once fixed the roller sat a few inches above floor
level. He repeated the operation with the others. The controller then addressed
all three women. "Time for your next exercise, ladies! You will be glad to know
you will be required over the next fifteen minutes to maintain 60 rpm only.
However, there is a degree of difficulty as you are about to find out." Eve
again knelt beneath the trembling buttocks of rider number 1. She took the free
ends of the two cords and fed them under the roller. Next she adjusted the
pedals so that the woman's high heels were placed top and bottom. Finally, she
took the looped cord ends and, passing them under the roller drew them out
horizontally and hooked each around a spiked heel, securing them with a strong
elastic band. Harvey looked on in fascination. He saw that the cords were not
quite taut, but had adjusting sleeves by which they could be tightened or
slackened as desired. Eve gripped one of these sleeves and drew the cord
tighter, looking up to check as the sex lip was stretched downward. Once it had
been pulled almost to it's limit, she clipped the sleeve tight again. The same
was done with the other cord. Eve came out from under the rider and put her ear
close to the gag. Hearing the muffled cries of pain she was satisfied the lips
were extended as far as possible, and moved on to number 2. Soon all three
women were fully stretched, each weeping silent tears as the sensitive flesh was
mercilessly tugged to it's limit by the cords and clamps.
"Ladies, please begin" came the order. The riders obeyed - and gurgling screams
were stifled in their throats as each pedal reached it's furthest forward
position, stretching the labia beyond anything they could bear. First one lip
then the other stretched and contracted....stretched and
contracted.......stretched and contracted.....as they looked on, the guests were
amazed how the three pairs of sex lips could be pulled down so far without the
soft flesh tearing. For the women, it was almost impossible to keep pace even at
60 rpm. They were in screaming agony with every half revolution of the pedals,
the stifled shrieks audible even through the confines of the gags. It was
especially difficult for number 2, whose vagina was already so tender from the
cropping. After only a minute, she was in so much pain she found it impossible
to continue and the needle fell. The controller, as before, confirmed that a
further penalty was on it's way - and once more Adam took up position, eyes
glinting with anticipatory pleasure. THWAAACCCKKK! THWAAAAACCCKKK!
THWAAAACCCKKK! The inevitable thin stripes appeared on the jiggling globes, the
flesh splitting open in several places with the force of the blows.
Eve immediately followed up by administering more punishment, ensuring her crop
fell on the bleeding welts and adding to the rider's hellish torment.
"Resume pedalling, number 2" came the order through her earpiece. The tortured
woman, sobbing uncontrollably to herself, nevertheless made a supreme effort,
forcing the pedals round despite the numbing agony between her legs and across
her buttocks. Khaled turned to the audience. "I think you will all agree number
2 is a very brave lady indeed" he remarked. The men murmured approval. Even Adam
nodded in agreement and patted the quaking, bloody buttocks affectionately.
Eve meanwhile crouched beneath each woman in turn, keeping a close watch on the
vaginas in case the flesh of the inner labia tore under the pressure. To help
avoid such a mishap, she carried a tube of lubricating jelly which she expertly
rubbed onto the grotesquely distorted lips as they alternately jerked up and
down in their rhythmic dance of pain. "All ok at the moment!" she called to the
controller as she finished inspecting number 3.
During the next few minutes number 1 received a further three strokes as a
result of a slight dip below the red line - although this was only momentarily.
It did not matter. Any failure to keep up the pace, however slight, was
punishable. Naturally, the woman could not pick up speed immediately and Eve
tried a variation by slapping the leather thong of her crop against the
undersides of the heaving breasts, landing several strokes first on one, then
the other. She started lightly and gradually increased the firmness of the
blows. This spurred on the hysterical rider and with a supreme effort she
managed to get back on target, much to Eve's disappointment.
Incredibly, the women succeeded in finishing the exercise without the necessity
of further punishment. "You may now stop, ladies!" came the instruction. The
three were by this time perspiring freely and almost fainting with the pain,
number 2 in extreme distress and trembling violently. They sat traumatised on
their cycles whilst Eve removed the clamps and cords. Once this had been done,
Harvey and the guests again strolled over to have a closer look. Hands roamed
over soft, feminine curves. Firm breasts, distended labia and tight anuses were
all thoroughly felt and examined as the men crowded around the luckless trio.
"Are they having any more of this today?" asked Harvey of his guide, convinced
the women had taken all they could endure. "Oh yes" came the unconcerned reply.
"His Highness has a preference for well-stretched lips. They will be repeating
the last exercise at least twice during today to help the process." Harvey was
shocked at this. Surely the women could not be asked to repeat this torment
once, let alone twice?
It was not the time to ponder on such issues. Khaled announced to the party that
they must get on, or may not have time to see all of the events taking place
behind the many other sealed doors. They took a last look at the distraught trio
and filed out to visit the next room..........
