It was now late evening and the funfair was due to close in around half an hour. As we walked past the Wheel of Pain I asked the barker how Daisy was doing.

“She’s been up there all evening,” he replied.

“Really? No one’s landed on Fuck?” I could see that the red segment was a bit smaller than most of the others, but surely there was still a roughly one-in-nine chance of it coming up.

“Oh, a guy got it, but as Daisy was upside down he wanted to use her mouth, so we left her up there.”

“A bit dangerous, wasn’t it?”

“We fitted a bit to force her mouth open of course; we’re all about health and safety here!”

“I’d like to try a spin,” said my wife, handing over a five pound note and turning to me, “Why should you have all the fun tonight — I saw you with your hand in your pocket earlier!”

I turned away a little embarrassed. How’d she see that from that distance?

We moved closer and I think Daisy recognised us, though she was very much worse for wear now, with bruises from the cane and punches she’d endured, and oozing cuts from the whip and the knife all over her body, arms and legs.

My wife spun the wheel and Daisy groaned as it came to a stop on a green segment with her returned almost upright. By now she knew what was in store for her just by her orientation.

“Needle!” declared the barker, handing my wife a sturdy six inch long needle with a black plastic handgrip. “You can pierce her skin anywhere except on her face and pussy.” He sounded bored now, having repeated variants of those words all evening.

My wife looked Daisy up and down appraising her, noting the soreness of her nipples where no doubt clamps had earlier been attached and torn off.

“I mean, I have to, don’t I?” she said, addressing Daisy playfully. “As a woman I can imagine how much this will hurt.”

She caressed Daisy’s left nipple and then grasped her budding tit in her left hand.

“Please miss, can’t you stab me in my arm? I’ve been though so much pain tonight,” Daisy pleaded in what she hoped was a sweet winning voice.

“Wow, our little rebel has changed her tune!” I said, “Now that it suits her of course. No, my wife paid for you to suffer, and suffer you will. Go on love.”

“Well fuck you both then, cunts,” Daisy spat, back on form.

My wife looked back into Daisy’s eyes and began forcing the needle through her supple skin. Daisy closed her eyes and bit her lip awaiting the pain. The needle wasn’t really that sharp though and it took my wife a surprising amount of effort to push it all the way through her tit. All the while Daisy let out high-pitched moans and tears leaked from her eyes.

“Leave the needle in dear,” I said, handing over another five pounds to the barker, “I want another chance to win that whipping. One more spin for luck!”

My wife and I swapped places on the platform and I gave Daisy my final spin of the evening. She came to rest almost upside down on the narrower red segment.

“Congratulations sir! You get to fuck her!” shouted the barker with elation, turning between me and the remaining crowd, which had thinned considerably by this time of the evening.

In a lower voice he added, “It’s quite convenient actually as we’re just closing, so the soldiers were coming to take her down anyway.”

Back in his louder voice he addressed the crowd: “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, the funfair is now closing. But do come back tomorrow when we’ll have a fresh contestant eager to endure the Wheel of Pain!”

As I stepped off the platform the barker said to me, “You’ll have thirty minutes with her in the tent behind the wheel.”

My wife joined us and I said sheepishly, “Are you okay with this dear? I was really hoping to get Whip.”

“You’re welcome to take the whip with you,” said the barker. “We’re not worried what happens to her now; she’ll end up in ‘Punishments Through the Ages’ tomorrow anyway.”

“In that case, I’d really like to sit in, if that’s ok. The kids can wait outside,” said my wife.

We turned to watch as the soldiers reappeared and unclipped Daisy’s manacles from the wheel. As soon as her wrists were released she fell down, her limbs unable to support her, and she put up no resistance.

The solders carried her to the tent and we followed them, my wife picking up the whip as we passed the rack of torture instruments.

Inside was a simple metal bed with eyelets around its perimeter.

“How’d you like her sir?” asked one of the soldiers.

“Eh, spread-eagled on her back will be fine, thanks,” I replied.

The soldiers secured her manacles to the eyelets as instructed and as they left one of them pointed out the box by the door. “Complementary,” he said.

Picking up one of the silver packets from the box I looked at my wife.

“Well, this is unexpected. We can do anything we like now!” I said.

“Kill me,” muttered Daisy.

“Anything except that — perhaps you didn’t hear the barker; you’re wanted for tomorrow’s entertainment.”

Eying the whip in my wife’s hand I said, “You want to whip her too, yes?”

“You bet!” she replied.

“Okay, how about I whip her first, then you can whip her as I fuck her?”

My wife nodded enthusiastically and I took the whip from her, positioning myself at the side of the bed.

“Please, haven’t you all tortured me enough tonight? Have some mercy, won’t you?” moaned Daisy.

“No, Daisy, as I explained to my daughter earlier, justice needs to be seen to be done, and I’m sure you didn’t think merciful thoughts as you blew up that Jeep. I bet it felt real good in your rebel mind. This is karma.”

With that I swung the whip over my shoulder and let loose on Daisy’s legs.

With each lash I aimed further up her body, raising red welts and screams. Then I concentrated on her chest, each lash cutting deeper until blood began to ooze from the wounds.

By now she was panting heavily, struggling to breathe and in shock. I noticed my wife had her hand up her skirt and was vigorously rubbing her pussy. No need to hide it in here.

When I heard my wife orgasm, I put down the whip for a rest. It was quite a workout and I needed to save my strength for the next part of my plan.

While we caught our breath we took our clothes off and I slipped on the condom.

My wife watched as I got on the bed and sat over Daisy, running my hands over her arms, neck and body, feeling all the cuts and bruises she had endured. She just stared at the roof of the tent trying to calm down from the whipping while I caressed her and licked her neck, tasting the saltiness of her tears. She was still so beautiful and her distress turned me on so much that I couldn’t make my hard-on wait any longer.

I moved down between her legs and pulled back the skin around the narrow entrance to her hairless pussy. Inserting a finger elicited a whimper, for she knew what was about to happen. Working it around a bit, I found her pussy tight and actually somewhat wet. That must be an involuntary response to my stroking and licking, I surmised.

Lining up my cock I decided she didn’t deserve gentle handling. Without warning I thrust my whole cock into her and she gasped and wailed in agony, straining against the manacles. I worked in and out, gripping her thighs, as my wife began rubbing her pussy again.

Once I’d worked up some speed, my wife picked up the whip and began lashing Daisy’s chest, knowing instinctively that my climax was near. I noticed that she spent more time on Daisy’s left tit, causing it to bleed around the needle that was still embedded in it.

When the inevitable happened and the whip got caught on the needle, the two ripped her nipple clean off and I had one of the best climaxes of my life.

Before we had a chance to cool down, my son burst into the tent.

“Dad, two soldiers just came over and walked off with Jane. They wouldn’t tell me why.”

“What!” we shouted.

Daisy let out a high-pitched laugh, began to cough, and then recovered enough to sing out in glee, “Kar-ma!”

Ignoring her, my wife and I hurriedly donned our clothes and rushed out of the tent.

We looked around frantically but couldn’t see Jane anywhere.

“Quick, there’s an information booth over there,” I said, pointing and starting to run.

We got to the tent just as the attendant was coming out, having finished up for the evening.

“Excuse me,” I puffed at the attendant, “My son said some soldiers came and took my daughter. Do you know where they went?”

I was stunned by his delicate answer: “Sir, we received information that your daughter is a rebel sympathiser. She’s been arrested.”

“Eliza,” muttered my son under his breath.