My kids had asked if they could to go to our local funfair, so my wife decided to take them this evening.

Now, I wasn’t much into funfairs at my age, but my curiosity was aroused when our government told us there would be some unique attractions at this particular funfair.

You see, our government and military had just won out battling the rebels that plagued our country, and they were keen that everyone had some fun after such hard times.

So I tagged along as we walked over the common to the funfair in the distance.

As we got closer it looked to me like all the rides were the standard fare: There’s the Waltzer spinning wildly; there’s the Ghost Train, its spooky façade just about visible; there’s the Ferris Wheel rising into the sky behind them both.

As we began making our way between the concession stands and Hook a Duck games though, there was a commotion to our right and we stopped to look. A couple of military guys had just emerged from a tent with their hands firmly gripping a girl by the shoulders as they walked. It was she making all the fuss, shouting profanities at them as she tried to escape. Other people had now stopped to look due to the shouting, and they kept on looking too, since this girl was stark naked with her hands cuffed tightly behind her back.

They made their way in front of us to a large red board, about ten feet tall, finished with blue trim. When the girl saw it she stopped dead and took it in with an open mouth.

“What the fuck is this?” she said. “You sick fucks.”

I followed her gaze and read the golden sign on the board: ‘Wheel of Pain’. Below the sign was a giant wheel with nine segments in pretty primary colours, with pegs around the outside, just like on Wheel of Fortune. I couldn’t yet read what the prizes on the segments were, but the girl could.

“This is disgusting,” she said.

“Now, now,” said a man waiting by the board, “some of these prizes are quite fun; who doesn’t like being tickled now and again? And what about Fuck – you’ll get to come down and have a rest whenever someone wins that.”

Now I realised what was about to happen, and we moved closer to watch along with several other people. One of the soldiers released the girl’s cuffs and they each grabbed an arm and forced her up onto a platform in front of the wheel. With the soldiers lifting her onto the recessed rim of the wheel and holding her back against it, the man, who was obviously the barker for the ‘attraction’, fixed sparkly silver manacles clipped onto the rim of the wheel to her ankles, and then the soldiers took turns holding up her arms so he could do the same for her wrists.

When they all stepped back off the platform and the soldiers walked back to their tent many in the crowd cheered. My wife wasn’t one of them.

“I’m not sure about this,” she said, looking at me, and then at the children.

“Ah, don’t feel bad about watching, miss,” the barker said, having overheard my wife. “This one’s not innocent you know.”

He turned to address the crowd, sweeping his arm in the direction of the girl.

“Behold, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, the Wheel of Pain! Our contestant tonight is Daisy Le Faye, the daughter of a couple of rebels who are currently enjoying the hospitality provided by the Tower of London. How old are you, Daisy?”

“Fuck you,” shouted Daisy forcefully.

“See, as I said, not innocent, despite that pretty name and her tender age. Daisy killed of seven of our soldiers when she and her parents blew up a Jeep with an IED last month.”

At this there was muttering from the crowd and I noticed Daisy avoided everyone’s gaze.

“Now, let’s get started,” said the barker. “Who’ll be first to take a spin? It’s only five pounds and as you can see there are some attractive prizes.”

Now able to read the prizes on the wheel segments, my cock began rising and I started feeling for my wallet!

I wasn’t quick enough though — a man standing beside the barker was already holding out a five pound note.

“Excellent!” said the barker. “Step right up and give her a good spin!”

The man spun the wheel with some force and Daisy was turned around a few times before coming to a stop.

“See, Daisy, you might get lucky all night,” said the barker as he handed the man a long stick with a feather at its end. “You get two minutes of tickle time my friend.”

As the man stepped forward and began teasing Daisy’s feet with the feather, I had a chance to appreciate her beauty. She was about five feet tall, slender with smooth white skin and small budding breasts, cute button nose and shoulder-length dirty blonde hair. She had no hair under her arms or on her pussy though, just as I liked it. At the moment she was hanging by her wrists and ankles almost horizontal to the ground, the blue Tickle segment having been at the bottom-right of the wheel before the spin.

Despite trying to keep up her defiance she couldn’t keep from smiling as the man moved the feather from her feet, along her legs and body to her armpits, testing for the best reaction. Eventually, just before the time was up, she let out a little squeal as the man ran the feather over her pussy.

“Can I?” I said, looking at my wife. The kids were both laughing at Daisy’s performance.

“Yes, I suppose so,” my wife replied. “But I’m not sure the kids should watch. You’ll probably win something more serious than tickling.”

“You could take them on the Waltzer,” I said.

“No…” she reconsidered. “I think this could be a good lesson for them about the consequences of their actions. They’d never see this in school.”

A convenient cover story I thought — my wife’s brother was a soldier and had almost been killed during a rebel attack, but luckily only needed stitches. His buddy standing beside him was not so lucky though. My wife had many times ranted about the revenge she’d take on the rebels if she could.

I walked over to the barker and gave him my fiver. Stepping up onto the platform I tilted my head to look Daisy in the eyes.

“Having fun?” I asked her. “I did enjoy your squirming; I hope you’ll do the same for me.”

“Fuck you,” she hissed.

“Your beauty is skin deep I see, and your vocabulary shallow. Perhaps I’ll get some more interesting comments from you when I whip you. That’s the prize I’m hoping for.”

But it wasn’t to be. The wheel moved more freely than I thought it would, what with a girl mounted upon it, and she went spinning around three times before coming to rest almost upside down with the green Punch segment under the clacker.

“Ah, there’s a rule for this one,” said the barker. “You can punch her once anywhere except on her face.”

“Fine by me,” I replied looking at my family and standing aside so they could see.

“What’s your preference, my love?” I called out.

After conferring with the kids she called back, “Punch her in the stomach.”

I balled up my fist and smashed it into Daisy’s belly to cheers from the crowd. She let out a sharp gasp and began to breath fast.

“Damn, that hurts,” she whined.

“That’s just the start little rebel; the evening’s young. I’ll be back later to see if I can win you that whipping.”

With that I stepped down from the platform to rejoin my family and we strolled off see what other surprises this funfair had in store.