Saturday, 23 June 2012

Sir Ian's Stable pt3 - At The Races

Over the days following Helen's spanking, the subjects of corporal punishment and Sir Ian's mysterious sports club never came up in conversation. Helen was always somewhat wary of  being the first to broach the subject with Andrea and Chloe, though on the nights that they were using the company gym Helen always made a point of having a quick surreptitious glance at their bottoms when changing.
These glances brought her no enlightenment as to what was going on, except to the fact that neither of them had had a recent caning.
She was also spending a lot more social time with Andrea and Chloe, and both girls had mentioned to her the spare room in the apartment almost as a hint that the room was available to her.

Helen found the idea of that room so tempting, she knew that her mother would not be keen on her taking it, but she couldn't remain tied to her apron strings forever, also she sensed that if they had a little break from one another it might actually improve their relationship, it certainly couldn't make it any worse!
Yes a break from each other would be just the ticket, Helen thought to herself, and of course there was the financial side of things to look at also, not to mention the travelling time saved.
The only down side would seem to be the fact that was not stated though implied was that the spare room was on condition of "joining the team".
As to what "the team" was still remained pretty much a mystery!

Then on the Thursday night in the sauna the silence was finally broken by Chloe.

"Helen I'm sorry we won't be able to go out tomorrow night as Andrea and I have hairdresser coming around to the flat, so Saturday morning we will pick you up from your house about ten thirty it's handy really, because your house is more or less on the way,"

"Uh...on the way to where?" Helen asked not knowing at first what Chloe was talking about.

"Well that would be telling wouldn't it," Chloe said grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

"Ah right Saturday, I knew it was this weekend.....just I wasn't sure what day it was....or if I was still invited," Helen said, her heart now suddenly pounding, "is there any kind of know dress code or anything?"

"There is a dress code for us two, but you can wear whatever you like," Andrea said, "just think barbecue or country fair and you won't be far off the mark,"

So that was it, Helen was on her way, and sure enough at ten twenty five on the Saturday morning a limousine pulled up outside of her house. It wasn't one of those pink stretchy party limos, it was a normal dark blue Dorchester.
Helen's mother was very impressed that the firm had sent a car to pick up her daughter to take her to the company's annual garden party.
Helen on the other hand looked at the car and thought "all that's missing is the hearse". Upon entering the car she saw exactly why Andrea and Chloe had said that they couldn't go out last night.
Their hair must have taken hours to do!
Instead of  either of their normal two styles, centre parting or pony tail, they both sported huge pony tails, the size of which had been enhanced by massive hair extensions, also both girls had what looked like green plastic tape banding their hair at the base of their tails.

"Hi, you two all right?" Helen asked as she sat down in the back of the car.

Andrea silent smiled and nodded, while Chloe fished around in her bag for something, and then handed it to Helen.

"I'm great thanks," Chloe said, "by the way Andrea isn't being deliberately rude by not speaking she is just getting into character, here put this on so you wont have to pay for drinks or anything in the refreshment tents,"

Helen looked at what had been handed to her, it was a rather amateurish looking green badge bearing the legend, "Green Team VIP Guest".

"Ah right thanks," Helen said unassuredly as she pinned the badge to her black sweatshirt.

The girls had been right about Helen living close to their destination, the journey had only taken some ten or twelve minutes, though it was along country lanes that she could not recall ever venturing down before, they then reached a large secluded house high up on the hills of the Wear valley.
At the gates at the head of the drive stood two stocky looking shaven headed guys who were clearly hired security monitoring all the vehicles that were trying to gain access.
Their car however was just waved straight through and down the long driveway towards the rear of the main house. As they got out of the car Helen noticed Sir Ian coming towards them, she had never seen him so casually dressed before, except of course in her dream, as a matter of fact his jeans and old t-shirt verged on being scruffy!

"Good morning girls!" he shouted over to them, a large childlike grin upon his face, "so glad you could make it Helen, and I see you have your free goody badge on, so I expect you to make good use of it in the champagne tent!"

"Yes, Sir if you insist I can hardly refuse can I?" Helen answered her initial nervousness around her boss now a seemingly distant memory.

"Come on then, time is of the essence if you wish to meet the old trouble and strife before things start! Andrea would you like to see if you can find my better half while I escort these two stunning young ladies down the garden path?" Sir Ian said as he linked arms with Helen and Chloe and led the way down the shrub lined path.

The view that met Helen's eyes as she reached end of the pathway left her somewhat dumbfounded.
A large area, more or less the size of a football pitch surrounded on three sides by a dense wall of tall leylandii. Helen could see that the trees formed a threefold purpose, they acted as a screen against prying eyes, whilst also providing a wind break and creating a sun trap.
In the centre of the enclosed area was an oval all weather running track, not like those you would see in athletics meetings though. This track was almost sausage shaped, with a thin wooden barrier running down the centre of it, the track was half marked out in lanes and half plain.
Around the track were dotted a couple of refreshment tents, and what looked like three track side bookmaker stalls, to the far end of the track stood a large marquee it's entrance closed over and guarded by two security guards both of the same stamp as the two at the gate. Both of the longer sides of the "sausage" had American style nine tier bleachers by way of seating, more or less in line with what Helen correctly took to be the finish line.

"Ah so it's a race...." Helen said, and Sir Ian nodded enthusiastically.

She felt somewhat cheated, she hadn't really known what to expect, she now felt how Dorothy must have felt as she pulled back the curtain on the Wizard of Oz and seen him for what he was. Except in this case the mystery only related to a bunch of toffs running an illegal gambling meet.
She felt so deflated.
Before Sir Ian could say anything else, Helen saw a short slim Indian woman striding towards them with the exaggerated gait of a colonel, Andrea tagged along behind the ramrod upright lady. The Indian lady Helen guessed would be around thirty to thirty five, she was dressed in beige jodphurs, knee high riding boots and a green blouse, as she approached she held her hand out to Helen.

"Hello you must be Helen? I'm Pria," She said pleasantly as she shook Helen's hand, "I hope my husband isn't boring you too much, if he isn't give him time and he will do?"

Helen just smiled, not sure if that was a question, a joke, or a statement of fact.
Also Helen was bit distracted by Andrea, who was clearly finding her new hair extensions uncomfortable, as she stood behind Pria she was constantly shaking her head, her extended pony tail lashing to and fro.
Then before anyone could say anything else Chloe suddenly interjected.

"Sir! Miss! look over there," then unashamedly she blatantly pointed at two girls.

One of the girls was easily six foot tall with very short cropped light brown hair, the other girl though was truly statuesque.
She was clearly two inches taller, shaven headed, and looked very like a young Grace Jones, dressed in Lycra cycling shorts and a cut off vest that showed off her ebony musculature to a great almost intimidating effect.
Then Helen noticed Andrea, she had stopped her annoying head shaking and was now staring at the two girls, though not a bad tempered "drunken girl in a nightclub stare", this look was one of someone calculating something, weighing up a problem and trying to work out a solution.
Then after what seemed an age, Andrea broke off her gaze, lent forward and whispered something in Pria's ear. Pria seemed thoughtful for a second or two, then nodded and smiled.

"I'm so sorry to have to leave you like this, Helen, but the girls and I really have to get ready now, hope to chat a little later!" Pria said then turned and strutted off to the large marquee, followed closely by Andrea and Chloe.

Helen then felt a hand upon her shoulder as Sir Ian quietly said.

"Please let's take a seat for a moment or two, we can have some champers after the first race, eh?"

"OK, Sir...." as she replied it suddenly registered with her that she was now taking on Andrea's and Chloe's way of talking to Sir Ian, the Ian had disappeared to be replaced by the plain Sir!

As they sat down on the third level of the bleachers, Sir Ian started his little speech.

"I can tell that you are more than a little disappointed by what you have seen so far today, no shush! really shush and let me finish, it really is a case of give today a little time, don't judge us to harshly, at least not till you have seen the whole event,"

"It's just.....I dunno....I was expecting something different....but by the same token I don't know what I was expecting..." Helen said, feeling a bit embarrassed as she was more or less attacking Sir Ian's hospitality, and also betraying Andrea's and Chloe's friendship and trust.

"Really it's no problem, you have been kept in the dark about us and what today entails, so hopefully I can perhaps enlighten you a little before the races begin?"

Helen nodded, now feeling that she was being somewhat of traitor, then she thought to herself was she being cast that way or was it just her conscious pricking her?

"You know what sulkys are?" Sir Ian asked.

Helen nodded uncertainly.

"You mean like the little carts that the gypsies race at Appelby Fair?"

"Yes that's them...more or less," Sir Ian replied now back to his avuncular best, he then went on to explain that the whole thing started out as a private club, then over the years things changed slightly. He went on to tell Helen that a few of the better off members had decided to bring in the idea of wagering on races, and inviting a selected few known heavy gamblers, the sort that would bet huge amounts upon two flies on a window.
As luck would have it one member had a house and gardens large enough to make into their very own Circus Maximus, granted it was a scaled down version of the ancient Roman chariot arena, a four lap race though was just shy of half a mile not a distance to be sneezed at. The key difference though was the propulsion of the chariots as Sir Ian said, "we aren't looking so much at horse power, but as the Spice Girls would say if I'm allowed to paraphrase them, it's girl powered!"

Now a couple of things made a little more sense to Helen, but why had Andrea and Chloe had been so secretive with her, and pulling a cart in a race seemed more an athletic thing than any kind of fetish?  

Sir Ian continued pointing out little details on the track, like the four silver dolphin lap markers that would spin and spit water one at a time as each lap was completed, also he explained the lane markings.

"You see the inner chariot has a little advantage on the cornering, so up until the first corner the outer chariot is given an advanced position to take that into account, then as they come out of that first bend the lane markings disappear and it becomes a general free for all!"

"What happens if they break lanes before then?" Helen asked feeling the need to at least feign interest.

"The team is disqualified from the race, and they are penalised," Sir Ian answered matter of factly.

Before Helen could ask in what form the  penalty would be a man dressed in traditional fox hunt regalia stepped out from the large marquee and blew on a hunting horn.

"Ah, the race order!" Sir Ian said, his face now full of concern as two men dressed in togas brought out a large wooden framed board. On the board was the written.

                          RACE ONE WHITE v GREEN
                          RACE TWO BLUE v RED
                          RACE THREE LOSERS OF FIRST TWO RACES
                          RACE FOUR CHAMPIONS FINAL
                          PARADE LAP IN FIVE MINUTES

"There is only four races?" Helen asked, "all this fuss for just four races?"

Sir Ian smiled and nodded.

"There is a ball of sorts this evening but that is strictly club members only I'm afraid, I'm sure though you will find this afternoon most interesting," as he said that he gave Helen a conspiratorial wink.

Helen really wished that she could share Sir Ian's optimism, she kept quiet though not wanting to upset her boss and made do with a little people watching as they awaited for proceedings to begin.
The audience was a real mixed bag, though there was a distinct lack of youthfulness, most seemed to be middle aged a few in their thirties, perhaps there would maybe fifteen or so at the most around Helen's age.
Most seemed to be pretty well off the typical "green wellies and Range Rover" brigade, others though looked more like your average man or woman in the street, there was also the odd smattering of fancy dress, togas and gladiators seemed to be the general theme. Also amongst this audience there were half a dozen or so waitresses dressed as Victorian maids serving the VIP area of the bleachers, basically it seemed seemed to Helen that it was just a few people who liked to play "dress up", nothing more shocking than she would expect to see on normal Saturday night out in Newcastle!
"People with too much time on their hands!" Helen thought to herself, then the second blast of the horn brought her out of her daydreaming.
As she turned back towards the large marquee the scene she saw made her jaw literally drop.

The two toga dressed men from before marched out from the marquee both carrying a tied ceremonial bunch of rods, behind them came the first "chariot".
The girls pulling the chariot were basically wearing only a white pair of panties and flat sandals. Along with their basic underwear and footwear, their body's were criss crossed with a leather harness that seemed to serve only a decorative purpose along with the bits between their teeth attached to reigns. Both girls wore pony tails, unlike Andrea and Chloe though theirs were short and in a French braid with white ribbons interlaced amongst the braiding.
The female charioteer was dressed the same as Lady Freebourne, except that her blouse was white and to Helen's shock she was holding a horse whip!   

"Whips...!" Helen said breathlessly.

"Yes," Sir Ian said casually, "they are used more for signalling than for a real gee up, most of the charioteers use either a dressage or lunge whips, it's for their extra length you see, but like I said they are more for passing on information than for real chastisement,"

Next to come was the green team, Andrea and Chloe were both dressed much the same as the white team except in the choice of underwear, they were wearing full cut green panties as opposed to thongs.

"So you had a hand in their knickers?" Helen asked referring to Sir Ian's penchant for the fuller cut styling.

"I'm sorry!" Sir Ian answered indignantly.

"Er...I meant that you said know you prefer...I thought you chose..."

"I knew what you meant," Sir Ian said now laughing, "I just love to see you blush, do you know your cheeks go very red very easily?"

Helen could feel her cheeks colouring even more at Sir Ian's teasing, then she saw the blue team leaving the marquee, and she was really stuck for words.
The blue team's girls were wearing no underwear at all!
They still had the same style leather harnessing as the others and she could see tails swaying behind them, but as one girl was shaven headed and the other one closely cropped Helen wondered how their tails were held on?
As they passed in front of Helen and Sir Ian, Helen could feel her buttock cheeks clench together involuntarily. Both of the girls tails were coming straight out from their anuses as they were attached to butt plugs in the girls fundaments.
Sir Ian could see Helen's obvious discomfiture at the sight in front of her, and he leant over and whispered to her.

"I know, to be honest it's not my kind of thing either, I'm from old money, you know public schools etc., I'm more your spanking and caning type of guy, but each to there own eh!"

Helen nodded as she felt a tingle down her spine as she recalled her treatment at his hands last weekend, in her mind though she was trying hard to imagine how those tails must feel, and how would that weight would change as they tried to run.
The other thing she noticed about the blue team was how fast and strong they both looked, stripped down as they were both girls looked equally intimidating, both of them looked like professional sprinters, both looked raring to go!

By the time the red team came into view, there was already a sudden flurry of activity at the bookmakers stalls, Helen took her glasses out from her purse and had a look at the odds on the nearest stall.
There must have been a huge amount of money being laid on the blue team as their odds continued to plummet, seemingly by the second.

"Would you like a little wager," Sir Ian asked, "I can sub it from your wages if you want?"

Helen now felt stuck between a rock and a hard place, she had to bet on her friends even though common sense would say to go for the blue team!

"Yes please pounds on green please?"

"No problem, I'm going for a little more at five to one, I think six will put the cat amongst the pigeons don't you agree?"

"Six hundred!"

"No six thousand, at those odds it would be criminal not to!" Sir Ian said grinning as he leaped up from his seat.

Then the races began, the first one saw the green team win easily even though they had been drawn on the outside, Pria once they had cleared the lane markings drove her chariot straight across the path of the white team, so close as to almost hit the outer of the two pony girls!

"See what I meant earlier Helen, it can get rough out there!" Sir Ian said, grinning at his wife's aggressive driving.

The tactic worked well enough causing the girl stop dead in her tracks and stumble, she barely hung onto the T-bar as her partner dragged her along by the time she regained her footing the race was over as a contest! 

The second race featured an even more emphatic win, as the starter dropped the cloth to signal the start of the race, the blue team surged off at breakneck speed even before the first bend they had made up the stagger advantage, in the end they won by three quarters of a lap!

By the time of the third race Helen's head was starting to buzz a little, four gratis glasses of champagne and the sun beating down on them had now started to take effect. Helen thought that this race would be a non entity as an event, Sir Ian had already told her that the prize money was winner takes all, so a race for third and fourth place seemed to be a little pointless.
In fact though this race turned out to be the most bitterly fought of them all, the charioteers had given up on using the whips only for sending coded signals they were now being used for their designed purpose by both charioteers.
As they passed neck and neck in front of the stand Helen could see the consternation upon the drivers faces, in fact they both looked upon the verge of panic!
Helen looked at Sir Ian in bewilderment.

"Are you familiar with the terms top, and bottom, in BDSM parlance?" Sir Ian asked.

Helen nodded coyly.

"Well as you can imagine the charioteers are very much toppy girls, so they definitely don't want to be last!"

"It's a pride thing then?" Helen asked.

"No, it's a pain thing," Sir Ian said, "you know that in some competitions the losing team is awarded a ceremonial wooden spoon, in this they receive a very literal six of the best caning from the winning charioteer, by team I mean all three of them, not just the ponies!"

"So the last time....when they came third, if they hadn't won their second race...Lady Newbourne would have been caned along with Andrea and Chloe?"

"Yes indeed, but if they had been last that caning would have only been the start of their troubles," Sir Ian said holding Helen's gaze, then he winked and added, "I can assure you of that!"

In the end the Red team just pipped the White to the finish, the different emotions in both charioteers was plain to see. The Red ecstatic relief, the White total devastation.

Now was the grand final, Green against Blue, Green on the inside lane Blue on the outer. As before once the cloth was dropped the Blue team went at full pelt the Greens seemed to be somewhat hanging back.
By the time they reached the lanes end Blue was clearly in the lead and to Helen's mind her twenty pounds was already lost.
Three times Pria steered into an overtaking position, but they just didn't seem have the speed to pass and the Blue team would just easily accelerate away from them.
Then at the beginning of the final lap Pria made another move to pass on the outside of the Blues, this time though she signalled with her whip, Andrea and Chloe upped their speed and started to move past the Blues. The Blue charioteer tried to spur her team on but now their tanks were empty all their earlier exertions had left them drained, the Green team cruised past.
Rather than cutting in straight away like in the first race, Pria kept her team running on the outside till just before the final bend where she then aimed for the racing line cutting close to the wooden barrier and taking the corner in wide arc. This tactic meant they did not have to slow down, though this also made the risk of cart tipping very high so to counteract that risk Pria rose up to her feet and threw all weight onto the inner wheel in an attempt to keep it on the ground, the tactic worked they crossed the finish line as the Blue team were only just coming out of the final corner.

"WE WON....WE WON....WE WON...!" Helen shouted as she grabbed hold of Sir Ian in a huge hug, then realised what she was doing, "I'm sorry Sir, I just got a bit carried away there."

"Hmmm, I noticed you said we won, does that mean us two with our bets, or are planning on joining our little group?"

Helen bit down on her bottom lip and gave Sir Ian a little unsure nod.

"Yes I think I would like that Sir," she replied.

Sir Ian smiled and caught the eye of one of the waitresses, and asked for a magnum of champagne and five flutes to be taken down to the finish line, the maid give Sir Ian a little courtesy and scuttled off quickly back to the champagne tent.
Sir Ian then gently held Helen's upper arm and helped her to her feet then arm in arm they walked to finish line. Helen was starting to feel really giddy now as the champagne and excitement were all hitting home. She watched on her fingers shaking as three old fashioned wooden school chairs were placed by the finish line, each spaced about five feet apart Helen had guessed of their significance.
Then she saw that there was a little crowd gathering around them slightly to their rear, then through the crowd Andrea and Chloe appeared still in full pony regalia though now minus their head harnesses.
Sir Ian handed them both a flute of champagne, then Helen burst out.

"You must both be so happy, you were really great out there!"

Chloe smiled silently, and Andrea shook her head in a quick circular fashion causing her tail to wildly loop around her head Sir Ian stage whispered to Helen.

"Ponies can't talk, Helen, It's not Mr. Ed," winking at Helen he then passed Andrea and Chloe an envelope each, "though which equine creatures drink champagne I would love to know, it would be so much cheaper for a bale of hay and a few nice carrots!"

Andrea grinned at Sir Ian's sarcasm, then there was a sudden burst of applause Helen turned back to face the track.
Pria was strutting down the track, the ceremonial bundle of rods in her arms, the White team trailing along behind her. The two White pony girls were walking with their heads still held high, the charioteer though was a different matter, her head was bowed her eyes locked upon the ground at her feet.

Lady Pria indicated the way she wanted the vanquished team lined up, the two pony girls to the right and the centre the now shaking charioteer to the left.

"Bend forward hands flat upon the seat of the chair," all three quickly complied to Lady Pria's command, "arch your backs a little, I want those big bottoms stuck right up in the air!"

Lady Pria then picked out four rods from the bundle, she swished each one dramatically through the air before deciding which one she preferred. The one she picked upon seemed to Helen's eyes to be not only the thinnest, but also the most whippy of the four.
Putting the cane under her right arm she walked down the short line of raised bottoms, even though the pony girls were wearing thongs that in no way protected their bottoms, Lady Pria leant forward and pulled them down to the girls ankles.
It was clear to Helen that she had only done this to show to everyone that she could, she was showing off her total power as the victor of the day over that of the day's losers!

Then she came to the charioteer. A little smirk upon Lady Pria's face made it clear to Helen that it was Lady Pria's peer who was going to be treat the most harshly.
Putting the cane down upon the track, Lady Pria undid the side zips of her fellow charioteer's jodphurs, she then made an exaggerated thing about lowering them, a pretend struggle to imply that the girl's buttocks were so large that her jodphurs couldn't be lowered easily, she even turned to the audience and shrugged her shoulders in a "what can I do manner".
Once the jodphurs were at the charioteer's ankles, Lady Pria looked at the proffered behind in front of her rubbing her chin in mock concentration, like the pony girls she to was also wearing a thong and Lady Pria seemed to be deciding whether to allow her equal that little modicum of modesty.
Of course to no ones surprise she didn't allow it, the white thong quickly joined the jodphurs at her ankles, in a final piece of humiliation Lady Pria tapped the charioteers legs with her hands making her stretch her legs as far apart as her pooled underwear and jodphurs would allow.
This meant that those directly behind the charioteer were given a clear view of both her anus and feminine folds.

Helen was now dry mouthed in anticipation of what was to come, half of her wished that  she was one of the girls awaiting their punishment. The other half knew that if she joined Sir Ian's stable she would come under Lady Pria's correction, so this was a chance to see what could, or most likely would, be coming her way at some point!

Then the caning started.
Rather than giving each girl six strokes in succession, Lady Pria had decided to work the line with one stroke at a time starting with the pony girl to Helen's far right.
Helen wondered what would be worse, having all six quickly in one go or this way each one delivered at a leisurely pace.
There was nothing leisurely about the strokes though, each one was delivered with the same venomous force. The pony girls had wisely decided to retain their headgear so that they could bite down upon their bits.
The charioteer had no such luxury to fall back upon, each stroke brought forth an ever increasing shriek of pain from her.

These events were having a distinct effect upon Helen, she was becoming more and more aroused by this scene of vicarious punishment being acted out in front of her. She tried clutching her thighs tightly together, then relaxing them, this repeated action just seemed to excite her further rather than give her any form of release. She then glanced at Andrea, she saw that Andrea's dark nipples were fully erect and her face was blank in rapt concentration. Chloe on the other hand seemed to pay no mind to what was taking place on the track, it was the contents of her envelope that had gathered all of her concentration.

By the time each of the losing team had received five strokes both of the pony girls were shaking, the weight upon their elbows and the pain in their bottoms had now really taken it's toll upon them. The charioteer was now distraught her whole body shaking and sobbing loudly, her exposed anus pulsing on it's own volition for all to see.

"Now ladies and gentleman, we all know the time honoured tradition, that the last stroke should be the worst stroke!" Lady Pria said addressing both the audience and her trembling charges.

With that announcement, Lady Pria delivered each final stroke with a dramatic three step run up.
Watching this Helen's covert muscle contractions finally gave her the release that she had been yearning for.

Two months after the race day Sir Ian entered the company gym, in front of him on the treadmills were three girls jogging in sync with one and another, their long pony tails swaying back and forth with each step.

"How are my favourite girls tonight?" he asked.

"We're fine thank you Sir!" the three of them chorused in reply, Helen then caught a glance of herself in the mirror just as the the golden horseshoe on her neck collar caught the light, she smiled at her reflection in contentment. 

                                                              THE END.