CHAPTER FIFTEEN - Pony Girls

The following day … Wednesday 29th March …

7:30 pm

Gayle Jackson ran a brush through her hair and looked at herself in the mirror. She was seated at her dressing table and getting herself ready to go out for the evening. She always wanted to look her best when outside the confines of the university. She was a strong headed girl, full of ambition, and considered appearances mattered.
Away from the university, Gayle found herself active on two fronts. First and foremost she was the London delegate of 'Cropwatch', an organisation opposed to the growing of genetically modified crops, and a subject she felt deeply passionate about. Her second passion was perhaps a little more abstruse. She was fanatical about BDSM, and since today happened to be a Wednesday, then it was thoughts of bondage and domination that occupied her mind as she put the finishing touches to her hair. She was getting herself ready to go to the 'Dom Domingo' club.
Gayle looked more closely at herself in the mirror, and she touched lightly her bruised eye with the tips of her fingers. Her right eye and side of her face remained sore and tender to the touch. One week had passed by since her little accident involving her boyfriend Tim and the garden chair. The swelling had almost gone now, but the bruising about the eye still remained very dark indeed.
With a little more extra make-up Gayle tried to hide the dark circle around the blackened eye the best she could. When she considered that she could do no more, she rose from the chair. She was dressed in the same dark two-piece suit she had worn the previous week. She straighten out the short skirt and adjusted the waist. The cut of the jacket and skirt hugged the contours of her slender body perfectly, and she gave a little nod of approval. She considered that she looked smart enough to venture out. She was almost ready now, and there was only one thing missing. From out of her handbag she collected a pair of dark glasses and she put them on. Now she not only looked respectable, her blackened eye was hidden, and she felt confident enough to face the outside world beyond the perimeters and confines of the sprawling university.
A knock came on the door.
Gayle collected her handbag and walked across the room of her small university bed sit. She opened the door to find Chloe standing there. This came as no surprise to her. She was expecting Chloe to arrive sometime about now. They were off to the club together, and today they had allowed themselves plenty of time. They were planning on taking a pleasant evening's stroll through the park on their way to the club.
Normally the two girls would be collected by Gayle's boyfriend Tim, and driven to the club, but his car remained off the road following an accident. As a result Gayle and Tim had not met since their last meeting at the club exactly one week ago. They had however managed to speak to each other over the phone at least once every night, so the courtship still held, albeit a little strained and tenuous at the present time. As part of the conversation the previous evening, having a lift to the club was discussed, but without transport Tim felt helpless and had said that he was sorry. There was a faint chance that he might be able to borrow his father's Mercedes for the night, but with the uncertainty remaining Gayle decided that it was best to walk and meet him at the club. And that is what was agreed.
For a moment or two, Gayle and Chloe faced each other through the open doorway. To say that they were both going out together looked a little odd. Whilst Gayle was dressed smartly in a dark suit and high heels shoes, Chloe on the other hand stood in the doorway wearing jeans, sweater and trainers on her feet. Even though both girls were very similar in height, stature and hairstyle, somehow they looked the exact opposite of each other. But this did not matter. Both girls knew how the other preferred to dress on occasions such as this.
"Are you ready Gayle?" asked Chloe on seeing her fellow university student answering the door.
Gayle gave a quick nod of the head. She took one last look about the room to see if she had forgotten anything, then stepped out into the corridor. "Yes, let's go Chloe," she responded.
Gayle pulled the door shut behind her and the couple set off. The forty-five minutes walk would see them there in plenty of time. As they stepped out of the hall of residence the sun was nearing the horizon, but the weather remained warm, and a mild and pleasant evening had been forecast.
Once outside the main gates and walking side by side Chloe spoke: "You weren't with us at the bottom of the garden last week were you Gayle? But it was suggested that if the weather remained warm enough this week, then they would get the carts out and we could do a bit of pony riding. We've not done any racing since last Summer, and I think everyone was keen to get it going again."
Gayle turned her head and looked at Chloe through her darkened glasses. Beneath them her eyes were smiling. Gayle enjoyed being a pony girl. It was something that really turned her on.
"It must be my turn to beat you Chloe," she said. "The last time we raced I remember you won because I had to pull fat slob Henry around the track. This time I'll have Tim as the jockey and I won't be so handicapped."
Chloe's face took on a look of defiance.
"You'd have lost last time anyway Gayle," she reminded her. "I can beat you anytime… do you want to put a side bet on it?" she asked.
Gayle thought for a while then nodded her head in response.
"Why not?" she replied with equal determination. "I'll take you on Chloe… over the best of three races and according to club rules… what do you say?"
Chloe's look of defiance turned to a broad smile. She too enjoyed the pony races.
"The best of three races then Gayle, and the usual club forfeit for the loser then?" she asked.
Gayle thought for a moment about what was involved, and what acceptance of the bet meant. The club forfeit was to be stripped naked and locked in the pillory at the start of the next session, and there that person must stay until being released the following morning, with a minimum of twelve hours being the stipulated duration. The loser was also obliged to provide a box of rotten tomatoes, or something equally obnoxious. He or she would then get pelted every time someone happened to pass by.
On the face of it the club forfeit did not sound too bad, but the pillory was sited outdoors, positioned right in the centre of the pony track. On a warm summer night the ordeal was quite bearable, but on a cold, damp day in March things could be very different, and with the English weather so unpredictable it was impossible to tell what conditions would be like one week from now. The big problem was, once the club forfeit had been declared, then the rules stated that there would be no turning back. Come rain, sun, thunder, lightning; whatever the weather; the loser just had to grin and suffer the consequences.
Gayle considered the ignominy of what was involved, and was also mindful of the fact that Chloe was a difficult opponent to beat. It was also something that had never happened to her as yet. It was an ordeal she had never had cause to consent to up till now. After a little more thought she nodded her head. "Okay Chloe… you're on!… and the club forfeit to the loser," she agreed.
Chloe agreed too. Without hesitation she nodded her head and held out her hand. After all it was her idea in the first place, and it would be difficult to back down now. Striding purposefully together along the pavement, the two girls shook hands on the wager. If anything their pace quickened, both girls eager to reach the club first and get the action started.
When travelling by foot, the route from the university to the 'Dom Domingo' club was a journey of three distinct parts. First there came a series of residential side streets. Here the housing was terraced with small front gardens, and parking restricted to the road outside. Then came the park, with its open spaces bringing a touch of light relief to the ever present urban environment of the big city. Finally, over on the other side of the park, the district became a little more suburban and much more upmarket. Here all the houses were large and detached, and all set in their own secluded gardens. It was one such dwelling, that over the years, had become the permanent home for the club, and the venue for tonight's meeting.
On nearing the park, and coming to the end of the last side street, Chloe's brisk step faltered for a moment. For most of the road they had walked the narrow pavement, sandwiched between the low walls of the terraced houses, and a long line of parked cars alongside. Three cars away from the end of the road was parked a large Mercedes. To Chloe it looked very much like Roger's. There was a sticker in the back window saying: 'Enjoy the Horror -Visit Littlesea Dungeon'. She was positive that she had seen the same slogan stuck to the back window of Roger's car.
Chloe stopped abruptly and pointed to the car. "Gayle, is that Roger's car? The guy who gave us a lift last week?" she asked.
Gayle did not know. She had met Roger briefly, just that once when taken to the club the week before, and on that occasion she had ridden in the back of his car. She was not even sure that his car was a Mercedes. All she knew was that it was a big car with a comfortable back seat. She did not even get a good look at Roger. He was sat in front of her, at the wheel of the car, and she could not recall him turning round to face her at any time.
Gayle shook her head. "Sorry Chloe, I've no idea… can you remember the number plate?" she asked her.
Chloe looked at the number plate to the rear of the car. It did not mean a thing to her. Given all the times she had seen the car, mostly when parked in the courtyard of Carrowbank Farm, and even last week, on her journey back to London, she had never had recourse to memorise the car's registration.
Chloe shrugged her shoulders and set off walking again. "I doubt very much if it's Roger's car," she finally admitted. "He'd be in Littlesea now anyway, visiting his fiancée Mimi in hospital. He sees her every morning and every evening without fail."
From what little Gayle had heard about Roger, she had to agree. "The car most likely belongs to someone who lives along here and happened to visit the exhibition when it first opened," she told Chloe.
Chloe nodded her head. "I guess you're right Gayle," she said. "I guess you're right."
But all the same, somewhere deep down inside of her there remained a nagging doubt. There was something about the contents of the back seat that reminded her of something she had seen in Littlesea, but for the life of her she could not figure out what that link was.
The two girls strode briskly on, and soon all thoughts of Roger and the Mercedes became forgotten. Their minds now fully focused on the pony racing to come. They crossed the road that circled the park, followed the railings for a short distance, then entered in through the gates. At this hour there were still a number of people in the park enjoying the last of the evening's sunlight. An elderly gentleman walking his dog passed them by on the path; several young boys were kicking a ball around on the grass; and dotted about on the many randomly spaced park benches sat either courting couples or just lone figures doing nothing more energetic than watching the sun go down.
As Gayle and Chloe moved along the path however, one person walking alone, dressed in an un-seasonally long dark raincoat, supporting a wide brimmed hat upon his head, and wearing a pair of dark glasses, stepped out from behind a clump of bushes some twenty paces to their rear. He then began to follow their every step across the park. As the girls reached the far gate and ventured back out into the road, the lone dark figure sat himself down on a bench and turned his attention back to the path and another clump of bushes not far away.
The lone figure rubbed his chin thoughtfully then nodded his head. He had a plan, he knew exactly what to do, and would be ready for when the two girls returned.

  8:15 pm

Chloe and Gayle arrived at the big house some forty-five minutes after setting out from the university. From the number of cars parked up in the drive, and others out on the tree lined avenue, it was clear that quite a number of club members had already arrived. On this occasion it was Gayle's turn to take interest in a car parked up outside the house. Coincidentally, this too happened to be Mercedes. She wondered if it belonged to Tim's father, and her boyfriend had managed to borrow it for the evening. She hoped this to be the case. At least she and Chloe would get a lift back to the university. Even with company she never felt entirely safe walking back through the park at night.
The two teenage students entered the driveway and approached the big house. Being seasoned members, rather than enter through the front door, they took the path around the outside of the large double garage and crossed the lawn to the terrace. Here most of the members were already congregated at the tables. They were all chatting amongst themselves and drinking either tea or coffee. In total there were eighteen members assembled, with an equal proportion of the sexes: Nine males and nine females to be exact. With the arrival of Chloe and Gayle this tipped the balance slightly in favour of the fairer sex.
The two girls joined the seated crowd, and were welcomed by a series of nods of recognition, and a few hellos from those not too deep in conversation. The low level of welcome was no big deal. For all those seated two more members had simply arrived, that was all. Perhaps another half dozen were still to turn up, and then the evening session could begin.
Gayle recognised most of those present, and to appear sociable she nodded her head and waved in the direction of every occupied table. An interesting foursome sat at one table, and they all gave a little wave back. These were known to everyone at the club simply as 'the twins' since no one could ever put the correct names to them. It was a strange affair with identical twin brothers courting identical twin sisters, and Gayle often wondered if the brothers knew whether or not they were bonking the correct sister, or visa-versa for that matter.
Whilst Chloe entered the kitchen to make two drinks, Gayle deposited her handbag on a free table and looked around for her boyfriend Tim. He was nowhere to be seen. She concluded that he had not yet arrived and the Mercedes outside must have belonged to someone else. But who's? She was sure that she had not seen it before. It was rather strange really. All the time she had been a member, she had never bothered to put faces to cars. Money just never seemed to be a significant factor here. There were both poor and rich members at the club, university students mingling with powerful business men, and the only qualification for membership was a shared and mutual passion for BDSM.
Feeling slightly disappointed at not finding Tim, Gayle looked around for the owner of the house. She spotted him seated at a far table and walked across to speak to him. He was a man in his early thirties and his name was Dr. Walter Henderson. She did not know much about him, other than by profession he was a psycho-analyst, or something like that, and he ran his own private consultancy business somewhere in the heart of the city.
On arrival Dr. Walter Henderson looked up and smiled. He was a sort of tubby man with a thin moustache, thick rimmed spectacles and balding hair. Another man seated at the same table also took notice of the young student's arrival, and he too turned his head towards Gayle and smiled. This man was probably the same age as Walter, but looked a lot younger and fitter. At least his body was much trimmer and all his hair was in place.
Gayle recognised the second man at the table. She knew him to be a doctor, and a friend of Walter's. It also happened to be the same person who treated her last week after falling off the chair. She had never met this man until last week, and had never bothered to find out his name. As far as she was aware he was simply a friend of Walter's, and not a regular club member. She was under the impression that last week was just a flying visit, and she had not expected to see him again this evening. She thought that maybe he liked what he saw and had come back for more. Perhaps he would even become a permanent member here.
Walter broke the silence. "Why hello Gayle!" he greeted her and sounding very cheerful, "Nice to see you again… and how's the eye?… You had us all a little worried last week."
Gayle raised up her dark glasses to reveal the bruising. "It's not too bad now Walter," she told him. "The swelling's almost gone and I can see through it properly now."
The doctor who had treated her last week stood up to face Gayle. "Can I have a little look please Gayle?" he asked.
Gayle nodded her head. She had not been to her own doctor, and thought it best to get the eye checked out properly, and hopefully receive the all clear.
The doctor took a careful look at the eye. He held the eyelids open and peered in closely, all the time being careful not to hurt. "Listen to me Gayle… listen to my voice… keep looking forward, and look deep into my own eyes,… Ah!.. That's good… now relax," he told her.
Gayle did as she was told and stared back into the doctor's deep brown eyes. She recalled him saying the same things to her last Wednesday. It was a strange mannerism, but somehow she found herself trusting the man in everything that he said and did. His calming voice had allowed her to get a little sleep on the couch last week despite the pain in her eye, and she was grateful for that.
Eventually the doctor nodded his head in approval. Apart from the remaining blackness, there was no evidence of swelling. "That all looks fine by me Gayle," he told her, "the eye's healing well… I think you'll survive."
Walter, who had remained seated at the table whilst the examination was taking place, added a comment: "We weren't sure whether you would make it this week Gayle… I'm so glad you've come."
Gayle replaced her dark glasses. "Walter, It'll take more than a black eye to make me miss this place," she commented.
Walter laughed loudly at the remark.
With the formalities over it was time for Gayle to come straight to the point. She cleared her throat before speaking.
"Walter, have you made any plans for this evening?" she asked.
Walter shook his head.
"No, nothing in particular Gayle," he replied, then added: "Why? Have you something specific in mind?"
Gayle nodded her head. "On the way here, Chloe was saying that last week you were discussing the possibility of starting up the pony racing again,… if the weather was nice that was,… well it's warm enough tonight,… and we thought we'd like to give it a go,… that's if everybody else is willing," she explained.
Walter smiled and nodded his head. "It so happens you're very much in luck Gayle," he told her, "I've had the carts out during the week, and I've greased the wheels, given everything a good polish, and I've also cleaned the tack… so if it's pony racing you want this evening Gayle,… then it's pony racing you shall have."
It was Gayle's turn to smile. "That's just great Walter!" she remarked, then quickly went on to explain about the wager between her and Chloe: "And Walter, you'd better know before we start, Chloe and I have challenged each other to the best of three races… under club rules of course,… and we've also had a side bet on it… the club forfeit is at stake… the loser has agreed to spend the night in the pillory next week."
Walter's smile turned to a beam followed by a loud chuckle, and he stood up. He had something important to announce to the members.
"Listen everyone," he called in a loud stentorian voice, and in order to gain everyone's attention.
Quickly a quietness fell across the terrace, and all faces turned in Walter's direction.
"I've got something important to announce," he continued. "Gayle and Chloe have challenged each other on the pony track… It's to be the best of three races, and the club's forfeit is at stake to the loser… So I reckon you all ought to start drifting off down to the bottom of the garden as soon as you've finished your drinks… What do say?"
A great cheer went up from terrace. Tonight would perhaps turn out to be a memorable session after all, and everyone felt eager to get started and become part of the action.
A little while later, with the last of the daylight fading fast, floodlights affixed to the top of tall poles were switched on to illuminate the rather large but circular pony track. Under the glare of the lights the members began to congregate around the outside of the track.
Over the years a dense wall of evergreen trees and bushes had been planted all around the compound making access to the area impenetrable other than through an overgrown, solid wooden gate to be found buried deep inside a small gap in the foliage. On the inside of the perimeter, at ground level, holly bushes had been cultivated to form a thick hedgerow, and in addition, doubled up as a deterrent to would be trespassers. Outside that inner ring, a layer of tall conifer trees had been added to completely shroud off the area. It could quite honestly be said that the bottom of the garden was the most private of places, and whatever sordid and devious activities went on behind the dense wall of foliage, they could all be accomplished in the safe knowledge that everything would be well shielded from curious and prying eyes.
 One half of a large wooden shed sited in one corner of the compound housed the carts. With so many willing helpers, two were quickly towed out and moved on to the track. In the meantime it was left to Gayle and Chloe to prepare themselves for the race. Each had been assigned one of a number of stables that formed the second half of the large shed. Not long afterwards the two girls emerged to a cheer from the crowd.
Gayle trotted out of her stable first, and a great cheer went up from the crowd. She was naked except for wearing high heeled shoes on her feet, and the ever present dark glasses over her eyes. She appeared to be revelling in the little charade, and displaying a willingness to act the part of a little pony from the moment she burst forth from the stable door. She even gave a little whinny and, on arrival on the track, jogged and snorted on the spot to the amusement of all the onlookers.
All eyes then returned to the shed, and, after a short while, from an adjoining stable, Chloe made her appearance. Her entrance proved to be a little more sedate, and a bit of an anticlimax following Gayle's splendid entrance. She ran towards the track more like an athlete enjoying a morning's jog through the park. However, on the plus side, she did emerge totally naked. Running in bare feet, she joined Gayle on the track and settled down to wait calmly by her side.
Walter was waiting for them on the track, and with the pony tack resting at his feet. Gayle adored being a pony and was determined to make the most of it. Still jogging and nodding her head, she backed up to Walter and placed her hands behind her back.
"Whey!… settle down little pony," he told her. "Let's see you keep still whilst I get the harness on you."
The pony girl settled down, snorting and nodding her head in ever decreasing movements until the action stopped and she was ready to be harnessed up. Walter collected a black leather sleeve, and with Gayle's hands already placed behind her back in readiness, he slid both arms inside. The sleeve was almost as long as the arms, and closed at the bottom to form a single glove. A criss-cross of leather laces ran all the way up the sleeve and Walter pulled them tight, drawing Gayle's elbows together and sealing the entire arms inside the leather cocoon.
Gayle neighed and shook her head as the tightening straps forced her shoulders back and thrust her breasts forward. This seemed to please the on-looking crowd, and a great cheer went up. Egged on by this stimulant, she felt her nipples tighten and grow erect, and a sensation of excited wetness appeared between her legs. She wanted to squeeze those nipples tightly. To make them become even more pointed, and to thrust them out even more in order to excite and tantalise the crowd, but her leather-encased hands and arms prevented her from doing so.
Next came a wide leather belt and crotch-strap. Walter fitted the belt around Gayle's slim waist and drew the buckle tight at the front. He then passed the crotch-strap down between her legs and threaded it through a buckle at the back of the belt. Then, with a great yank, he pulled the strap between her legs tight, sinking the leather deep into her sex before doing up the buckle.
When it was done, Gayle whinnied and returned to jogging on the spot. The tightness of the leather between her legs rubbed deep against her clitoris and quickly added to her arousal. She could feel the wetness of her juices soaking into the leather and lubricating the movement  between her legs. She wanted to jog forever, or at least until she reached orgasm, but she was forced to settle down and abandon the effort when Walter appeared once again, this time with the headgear and reins.
"Whey!… Hold still little pony,… let's be putting this on you," said Walter as he stood before Gayle with hands held forward and holding out the bit that was destined for her mouth.
Gayle stopped her prancing and lowered her head. Walter passed the leather harness over her head and positioned the bit in her mouth. He then did up the straps at the back of the head and straightened out the reins. Gayle was ready now. One strap, pulled tight and fastened at the back of the head, held the bit firmly between her teeth; and a second strap, attached to a triangular piece about the nose ran directly over the top of her head, and that too fastened at the rear.
"There you are little pony," said Walter once he was done. "You're now ready to be hooked up to the cart."
Immediately Gayle returned to jogging on the spot. She was thinking that perhaps there was still time to reach that orgasm whilst waiting for Chloe to get harnessed up. But the crotch strap was well lubricated by now, and even though it still pulled tightly against her sex, the stimulation of the rough leather rubbing hard against her clitoris had ceased to exist.
In frustration Gayle looked around the compound for her boyfriend Tim. There was still no sign of him, and she wondered where he might be. He had definitely told her that he would be here tonight. She had wanted him to be her jockey. He was of medium build and not too heavy to pull, whilst on the other hand, she had hoped that Chloe would get someone twice as heavy. A fat slob called Henry was always willing to get involved, and it was more than likely that he was the one she would end up with. But suddenly her plan had gone awry and she felt a little disappointed. She jogged around in a complete circle in order to check on all of the crowd. She whinnied and snorted. It was as she had feared. Tim was nowhere to be seen.
Still jogging lightly on the spot, and keeping one eye on the gate for any newcomers, Gayle was surprised to find Chloe join her by her side. The other pony girl was ready and harnessed up just the same. Chloe's arms were locked behind her back in a sleeve of leather, a wide belt and crotch strap had been fitted about her waist, and a harness of leather straps, complete with bit, nestled snugly over he head.
The two girls looked each other in the eye and fixed the stare. There was a steely determination to be seen in Chloe's eyes. But Gayle's tenacity could not be gauged so readily: Her dark glasses shielding and keeping those looks and thoughts private, and to herself.
Walter broke the stand-off.
"Right ponies… time to get hooked up to the carts," he said.
Gayle, guided by Walter's hands found herself being backed up between the towing bars of the cart. There were willing helpers on hand to raise up the bars of the cart and hold them parallel to the ground whilst the waist-belt got hooked up. There were large snap-rings attached to the wide leather waist-belt on either side, and these were quickly attached to two large brass rings affixed to the ends of the bars. As soon as it was done, Gayle snorted once more and resumed her gentle jogging on the spot.
The team of willing helpers moved on to the second cart. It was Chloe's turn to get hooked up. She too found herself being backed up and positioned between the two bars of the cart. Then the belt about her waist was attached and she too was ready for the action. But unlike Gayle she remained still and in deep concentration, and intent on saving all her energy for the three races to come. She knew that it was going to be a hard task. Gayle in body weight and size was her equal, and there was not much to choose between either one of them. As a result, the outcome of the contest remained uncertain.
Gayle looked across to Chloe and gave a little snort and snarl. She too was ready to do battle. The only problem was, who was going to be her jockey? She wanted to ask if anyone had seen Tim, but the bit in her mouth now prevented her from making any proper communication.
Chloe's thoughts were somewhat similar. At least she wanted to know who her jockey was going to be. But she was not so much concerned as Gayle. In a competitive race like this, Walter was always fair. Whoever the chosen jockeys were, she was sure that they would be of equal size and stature. There was too much at stake to say that any one pony had the advantage over the other.
As with tradition, and according to the club rules, (something which only Walter seemed to know by the way!), each pony had been assigned a stable lad. Whilst the girls were being harnessed up, two young men in their early twenties had stripped bare alongside the track side. Gayle recognised them as the twin brothers she had waved to earlier on the terrace. They stepped forward to take hold of the reins. They then began to parade the ponies around the track.
Another member, and also naked, then began to take bets. A stall had been set up and he began to chalk up the odds on a board. As expected Chloe quickly became favourite, and all the serious money started to go on her. And this was real betting, with real money and real pay outs afterwards. So the stakes were high and the outcome of the race serious.
Whilst all this was going on, Walter raised up his hands and waited for the crowd to fall silent before speaking.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he announced, "can we have the two jockeys now please?"
All eyes turned towards the large wooden shed. Someone made a trumpeting noise to herald the jockeys' arrival. Then out of the wide doorway stepped two young women, both were in there early twenties, and coming as no surprise to everyone present, they just happened to be the twin partners of the two stable lads. Walter had selected it this way, and had been both scrupulous and fair to all concerned. Both jockeys were of identical size and build, and giving no advantage to either pony. The two girls emerged from the shed naked, except that was for jockey caps on their heads, and each was carrying a whip. Immediately they appeared a great cheer went up.
Running across to the track, with breasts bouncing up and down as they moved, the two girls joined Walter by his side. They waited a while for the ponies to complete a circuit of the track and pull up alongside before joining their respective partners. They then stood by their men's sides, and in that instance the jockey assignment had been made. It had in fact been left to the random selection of the stable lads to decide which jockey was to be assigned to which pony. The stable lads had not been told any of this. Their instructions from Walter had simply been to lead the ponies round around the track whilst everyone else waited. The jockey's on the other hand had been told specifically to join their respective partners once out on the track. And so the stage was set.
On seeing that everyone was ready, Walter raised up his arms into the air once more. "Ladies and gentleman," he announced once more, "we have a challenge, and a club forfeit at stake tonight... The best of three races will ultimately decide who goes away victor, and whom will submit themselves to the pillory next week… So may the best pony win… But first we must decide the all important track position,.. for it is well known that the one who draws the inside lane has the advantage over a three race contest… I therefore ask the two jockeys to decide the outcome by the toss of a coin."
Walter clenched his fist and balanced a coin on his thumb. He then waited for the two chosen jockeys to stand at either side. He selected one of the girls, it happened to be Chloe's jockey, and he told her: "Call heads or tails whilst the coin is in the air."
He then flicked the coin high and waited for it to fall to the ground.
Chloe's jockey called: "Heads," and waited.
As the coin landed, Walter bent down and collected it from off the ground. He held it out for all to see.
"It is heads ladies and gentlemen," he called, then speaking to the successful jockey he asked: "So what position do you choose?"
"The inside track," she announced and immediately a great cheer went up from the crowd.
Alongside the track the bookmaker quickly dusted his board clean and chalked up fresh odds. The odds on Chloe winning had dropped even further.
The two pony girls, complete with carts and jockeys, were made to line up on the track, with Chloe on the inside and Gayle on the outer.
The track itself was circular and plenty wide enough for two carts. In fact three carts were commonly raced around the track during the long hot summer evenings, and on the odd occasion as many as four had been known. The track was also fairly large in diameter and a complete circuit measured something like one hundred metres in distance. There was a line marked in white across the track. There was also a finishing post set into the ground and positioned on the inside of the track next to it. This was the start and finish line, and the duration of the first two races was to be two complete laps, after that, if the scores were level at one race each, then the ultimate race would be over twice the distance. The last race being four laps long, and a true test of stamina.
Walter stood on the outside of the track, and a little way ahead of the ponies. He had a large white flag in his hand. He raised it high in the air.
"When I drop the flag then the race will begin," he called to the jockeys. "Let me remind you, this race is over two laps. There is to be no barging or colliding, and those racing on the outside can only move to the inside if there is a clear gap between the carts to do so… Is that perfectly clear."
Both jockeys signalled that they understood and took up the reins in readiness. Both Chloe and Gayle felt the bit between their teeth pull tight against the back of the mouths, and they prepared themselves for a quick getaway. Each eager to get ahead right from the start and hold that position.
The flag dropped and Walter shouted: "Go!"
Immediately the flag dropped Chloe felt a crack of the whip against her backside. It stung and threw her for a second allowing Gayle to nudge ahead. But she had the advantage of the bend, and before a quarter of a lap was complete she was level with her again. After that she started to gradually pull away. By the time the first lap was complete Chloe was half a cart's length ahead of Gayle. After one and a half laps this lead had stretched to a full cart's length. And by the time the finishing line came into view, Chloe was able to slow down and cross the line at a canter.
Walter announced the official result. "Pony girl Chloe has won the first race by two cart lengths," he told the crowd, and immediately a great cheer went up.
Apart from taking bets on the final outcome of the race, bets were also being taken on the distance of the win for each race. Those that had bet on Chloe to win by two carts length appeared to have cheered the loudest, and quickly began to form a queue in front of the bookmaker's stall in order to collect their winnings.
The two carts came to a halt alongside each other over on the far side of the track, and the two pony girls, both now panting very heavily, fixed stares at one another. Gayle knew that she had to do much better next time. But at least she would have the advantage of the inside. In these short sprint races it was important to get a good start, to take the lead and stay there.
"Right ladies and gentlemen, there will now be a fifteen minutes rest between races," announced Walter. "Jockey's may dismount, and the stable lads may water their ponies."
The two appointed stable lads appeared on the track, and led the ponies away in separate directions. Gayle was offered a drink from a bucket, which she accepted gratefully. The bucket was full to the brim, and with the bit still held firmly in her mouth, great gushes of water spilled from out the sides, and cascaded down her naked body. The torrent of water soaking her heaving breasts before swilling down her hips and thighs. But she did not mind one little bit. The water was cold and refreshing, and brought fresh life to an already aching body.
Chloe's treatment was very much the same. Walter had stressed to the stable lads that it was important for both ponies to be treated equally. She drank from her own bucket in much the same manner, and she too experienced a cascade of water swilling down the front of her naked body. But on this occasion the vast majority of the water seemed to get channelled down between her breasts, swilling down her stomach and ending up dripping between her legs.
Like her rival Gayle, Chloe gained comfort in the cold water, she found herself coming alive, and eager to start the next race. She knew that if she could win this one, then there would be no need for a third race. She would have won outright, and Gayle would be destined to spend the night in the pillory next week. The thought of this spurred her on even more. She was determined to put everything she had got into this next race.
Walter called time when the fifteen minutes were nearly up. The pony girls were led to the starting line by the stable lads, and the jockeys remounted. He then took up position again with the white flag held high and waited. This time Gayle had the advantage of the inside track, and he could see that she was possibly a little too eager to get away.
"Settle down ponies," he announced. "We don't want any false starts."
Gayle's feet, if anything were a little way over the line, and she edged herself backwards.
Walter waited for her to settle, then dropped the flag once more.
"Go!" he called loudly, and the second race was on its way.
Chloe felt the crack of the whip once more across her bare buttocks. It was painful, and more a hindrance than a help. But this time she was prepared for the strike and set off at a pace. Even with the disadvantage of the bend she gained a slight lead from the outset, but it was nowhere near enough to pass in front of Gayle and take the inside of the track.
Throughout the whole of the first lap a small lead was held constantly by Chloe despite being on the outside of the bend. She was thinking that if only she could do the same just one more lap, and maintain the narrow lead, then she would be the overall winner. With a steely determination she set off for the second and final lap. But the gap and small lead was always narrowing. By the time that one-and-a-half laps had gone, Chloe could see Gayle running alongside her from the corner of one eye. Chloe was no more than a foot distance in front at the most, and Gayle continued to have the advantage of the bend. It would be touch and go whether she could maintain her slender lead. She was tiring rapidly and hoped and prayed that the finishing line would come quickly.
Walter positioned himself right on the line and waited for the pony girls to come round for the final time. Even he knew that the result was going to be a close run thing, and did not want to get anything wrong.
The pony girls approached the line almost together and flashed past the post in an instance. The result was close, very close indeed, but there could be no arguments. Everyone who had a clear view of the finish could see that Gayle passed the post first, but not by very much let it be said. She had managed to gain the lead over the last half a lap, and held out to the end.
Walter stood up and turned to face the noisy crowd behind him. "I pronounce pony girl Gayle the winner," he announced, "by one breast's distance."
Immediately a great cheer went up from the crowd, and another queue began to form in front of the bookmaker's stall. Gayle to win by one breast's distance had been a popular choice, and there were quite a few winners.
The contest was getting all very exciting and building up to a great contest. Now it was all down to the last race, and this one was much longer. This race, according to the rules would take in an extra two laps, making four laps in all. This they reckoned might make all the difference. This last race would be a true test of stamina rather than speed.
Chloe and Gayle were led away to opposite ends of the track. Both pony girls needed the rest and the welcome relief of another copious drink from the buckets. The water spilled everywhere, but neither pony girl cared. Their hairs was soaked; their bodies were drenched; but they were cooled and chilled, and suitably refreshed, and that was what really mattered.
Gayle began to think about tactics. Should she pace herself? Or should she put in a lot of extra effort and try to gain the inside track right from the start? Two laps were utterly exhausting, so four laps was sure to prove shear agony. Deep in contemplation, she dropped her head and her eyes focused on her feet, and in particular the high-heeled shoes that she wore. They were great as a spectacle, no pony girl should be without them, but when it came to serious racing they were not exactly the ideal footwear for running in. Her opponent, right from the very start, had been running in bare feet, and she was sure that this was giving Chloe a slight advantage. She decided that her high-heeled shoes just had to go. At least then the last race would be on more level terms. Using her feet, she removed her shoes and kicked them away the best she could.
The stable lad in charge of Gayle saw what his pony girl was doing and understood her motives. He had thought all along what a disadvantage it was to be running in high-heels. He collected the discarded shoes from off the track and placed them down on the grass verge by the side. Gayle wanted to thank him, but the bit in her mouth prevented her from doing so. Instead he got a snort and a whinny for his efforts, along with a few thankful nods of the head.
With just a few minutes to go, both girls tried to relax and prepare themselves both physically and mentally for the ordeal to come. At the start of the break Gayle had been led to the part of the track nearest the entrance to the compound. From this close position she heard the catch on the gate being raised and turned her head. Then she saw the newcomer, and despite the bit in her mouth, she smiled and tried to make some sort of welcoming gesture. It was her boyfriend Tim. He had finally arrived.
For a second or two Tim stood bemused before realising that a pony race was in progress, and furthermore, that it was Gayle harnessed to the cart almost in front of him. He smiled back at Gayle and gave a little wave of recognition. He shaped his lips to ask what was happening, but in that instance Gayle was turned away by the stable lad and led away, back to the starting line. Slowly, all that was happening began to register with Tim, and it finally became clear. Gayle and Chloe were in the midst of a contest, and it looked serious. The bookmaker's stall was by the side of the track, so there had to be more than just a little bit of fun at stake here.
As before the two contestants were lined up, with Chloe returning to the inside of the track. Walter took up his position and raised up his flag.
"Is everybody ready?" he asked.
Both jockeys confirmed that they were, and they pulled down their caps and raised up the whips in readiness.
"May I remind you that this final race is over the greater distance of four laps," he said, then added: "So may the best pony win."
Walter raised up the flag even higher and waited. A hush fell upon the crowd. The tension heightened as Walter held the flag aloft.
"Go!" he shouted, and dropped the flag.
They were off. The race had begun.
Once more Chloe felt the crack of the whip on her backside. But she was used to it by now and took no notice. She had the advantage of the inside of the track, and her tactics were simply to keep it that way. She would pace herself and keep one eye on her opponent. Whenever she sped up, then she would do the same, and whenever she slowed, then she would do likewise.
Gayle on the other hand had decided to take things easy for the first three laps and then give it everything she had got. In proper horse racing you saw these tactics all the time, with the winner coming with a quick spurt from behind. She just hoped that the last race had taken a lot out of Chloe, and that by running in bare feet, at least the contest would be a little more even this time.
The first lap went to plan for both pony girls. Chloe maintained the advantage offered by the inside position, and Gayle paced herself alongside. If anything, as the two ponies crossed the line for the first time, Gayle was at least a breast ahead of her opponent. She was doing very well despite the disadvantage of being on the outside. A great cheer went up from the backers of Gayle, and shouts of encouragement echoed around the compound.
The second lap turned out to be much the same as the first. As the two pony girls swept past the line there was hardly anything in it. Maybe the gap had widened slightly to two breast's distance in favour of Gayle on the outside, but no one was willing to make a judgement. The race was still that close.
The third lap saw a slight increase of pace from both ponies. Egged on by their jockeys, and the continuous cracking of the whips against bare flesh encouraging the girls to quicken their pace. The crowd gathered around the line and waited with baited breath. As the two carts rushed by it was clear now that Gayle, despite being on the outside was slowly clawing ahead. There was no official distance declared, but most onlookers reckoned that the gap had widened to at least a body's distance in favour of Gayle.
Chloe, racing on the inside, knew that she had her work cut out if she was going to win. But she still had the advantage of the inside, and was only a short distance behind. She pulled on all her reserves of strength and quickened her pace. By the time they had reached the far side of the track, she reckoned that there was now nothing in it. They were neck and neck, or breast and breast, as it was liked to be called in pony girl circles.
Then it happened.
At first Chloe wondered what exactly it was on the track, but she was racing too fast to get a good look, and the weight and momentum of the cart behind prevented her from side stepping the object. It looked like a small branch off a tree, or something similar. Her bare foot caught the object and she squealed though the sides of her bit-filled mouth as the pain came home. Immediately she knew what she had trodden on. It was holly! A small branch of holly had mysteriously appeared on the track, and she had stepped right on it.
For a moment she faltered in her run, giving two hops to her left foot, before taking off again. But by now Gayle had taken a sizeable lead. She was at least half a cart's length in the ahead. Chloe tried to quicken the pace but her right foot was now hurting every time she put it down. With just a quarter of a lap to go she tried to forget all about the pain and summonsed up all her last reserves of strength. She could see up ahead that Gayle was tiring and there was still a chance of winning.
On the line Walter crouched low and waited. He was not aware of what had happened over on the far side of the track, and neither were the rest of the crowd congregated around the finishing post.
With a great swish of the air, the two ponies flew past the finishing line. The result looked so close everyone held their breath. All eyes turned to Walter. He stood up and turned to the crowd. All had gone quiet, nothing could be heard except for the rattle of the slowing carts over on the far side of the track.
Walter held up his hands.
The crowd waited. What was he going to say? Who was going to be declared the winner? At this stage nobody knew.
"I declare…" said Walter, then waited a little to heighten the tension, "I declare Gayle the winner… by the shortest of distances… a nipple."
Walter's judgement was considered final and no one argued. The winner was Gayle and it was now official. Somehow she had managed to hang on to the lead, despite being on the outside all the way, and up against Chloe's last ditch desperate efforts. But the result had been so close, and at the end of three long and gruelling races there had only been a nipple's distance in it. The race and the outcome would become a talking point for many meetings to come.
From the backers of Gayle a great cheer went up. She had been the outsider right from the start, and had offered the better odds with the bookmaker. However, there were no bitter losers. From the losing punters a clapping of appreciation ensued. Everyone present had had a great evening's entertainment anyway. So what did it matter? Furthermore they would be able to take a little bit of revenge out on Chloe next week when she would be locked in the pillory.
Over on the other side of the track the two carts drew to a halt. Very much to Gayle's surprise she found Tim waiting there for her.
"You've just won," Tim told Gayle. "Walter's just called the result… You won by a nipple!"
Gayle jumped for joy on hearing the news, and the cart and jockey bobbed up and down behind her. But Gayle's jockey did not mind. The race had been as much as hers as it had been Gayle's. She had encouraged her pony on all the way, and despite being disadvantaged by the outside track, they had come out the winners.
Tim stepped on to the track, threw his arms about Gayle and kissed her on the lips despite the bit being in her mouth.
Gayle squirmed at the embrace, and through the corners of her mouth issued a startled: "Ouch!". Something was prickling her back.
Tim realised what he had done and broke away. Gayle watched him toss what looked like a small sprig of holly into the perimeter bushes, and she wondered what he was doing with it. Tim hugged her again, this time with no discomfort, and she tried to return the kiss the best she could.
As they embraced the two stable lads turned up to lead the pony girls away, and to lead the winner on a victory lap.
Tim stepped to one side. "See you when you're dressed," he told Gayle, and he blew a little kiss.

10:00 pm

By ten o'clock most of the crowd had dispersed and returned to the terrace above. Chloe and Gayle faced each other over the low partition that formed a divide between two of the stalls. Both girls were putting their clothes back on. The show was over, and Chloe had taken her defeat well.
"I nearly had you Gayle," said Chloe thoughtfully. "If it wasn't for that holly on the last bend I reckon that I could have beaten you… But there you are!.. It was just something unfortunate I suppose!"
"What holly?" asked Gayle.
Already she was suspicious.
"Oh, just a small branch of holly on the track," explained Chloe, "I guess I must have missed it the first few times around, but on the forth and final lap it caught me right on the bottom of my foot… and it threw me for second or two… but never mind Gayle.. you really did put up a great effort in that last race, and you deserved to win anyway."
Gayle said no more, but inside of her she felt furious. Tim had done it, she knew it was him. He was responsible. He had placed the holly on the track during that last lap. She had seen it in his hand. He had been on his own over on the far side of the track, so no one saw him do it, and he had taken it away afterwards so that no one would find out what he had done.
As the two girls, now fully dressed, emerged from their stalls, Tim was waiting outside for them. Tim embraced Gayle and they kissed. But it was a cold icy kiss from Gayle, with no passion and no desire to do more than a little peck.
Gayle turned to Chloe. "How's about going and making the coffees, and we'll be up in a minute," she suggested.
Chloe nodded her head. She thought it a good idea to leave the two lovebirds together for a while anyway.
Gayle waited for Chloe to disappear through the gate before turning to confront Tim. Everyone else had returned to the terrace by now and they were alone.
"What were you doing with that holly Tim?" she asked abruptly the moment she heard the gate close.
Tim gave a wry smile.
"Holly? What holly?" he asked.
"The holly you scratched my back with," retorted Gayle.
"Oh, that holly!" stated Tim and sounding a little defensive.
"Yes, that holly," snapped Gayle. "The same holly you placed on the track so that Chloe would step on it."
Tim threw out his arms. He did not know what to say. He had done it for Gayle. He had wanted her to win.
"I did it for you Gayle," he told her. "you know that… I wanted you to win."
"But not by cheating Tim,… that's dishonest," she said with voice raised.
She sounded really angry now.
"I'm sorry Gayle,… I…" apologised Tim.
He wanted to say more; to justify himself to Gayle; but that was as far as he got. Gayle's hand flew up suddenly and struck him on the side of the face. The slap was so loud it could be heard all the way up the garden as far as the terrace above; it was that viscous.
"Tim, I never want to see you again, is that clear?" hissed Gayle.
She was fuming with anger.
Tim held out his hands. "Please Gayle!" he uttered, but it was too late.
Gayle was away, heading for the gate. She had no more to say to Tim. Their strained affair was over.
Up on the terrace faces watched Gayle stride up the garden steps towards them. Chloe was amongst them wanting to find out what had happened, but Gayle avoided reaching the terrace. Instead she stepped over onto a lawn and set off for the side of the garage. Quickly she was out of site and everybody on the terrace looked to one another in astonishment.
"What was that all about?" asked someone.
A lot of heads started shaking. No one had any idea. Gayle had been the winner and they were expecting her to join them and celebrate. Walter had even found a bottle of champagne for her to open.
A few minutes later Tim appeared on the steps below. But he also refused to join the crowd on the terrace. Faces, with mouths agog, watched as he too traversed the lawn and made his way to the path that ran around the side of the garage.

10:30 pm

Gayle had calmed down a little by the time she approached the gates to the park, but she still strode on purposefully all the same. The walk had cleared her mind and she now knew what to do. Tomorrow, when she saw Chloe next, she would explain everything that had happened. She would apologise for Tim's behaviour and tell her what a wicked thing he had done, and she would concede the race to her. In her own mind Chloe was the rightful winner, and she would do the forfeit next week instead of her. It was the only right and proper thing to do.
As Gayle neared the entrance to the park, a courting couple, snuggled up close and practically eating each other emerged from the gates. She stepped to one side and let them pass. It was difficult to say whether they noticed her or not. However, Gayle took this as a good sign. People were still about at this hour. By storming away early from the club she was walking this route at least an hour earlier than usual. If there was anyone about with ill intents, then surely they would wait until much later when no one was around. With these thoughts in mind, she perked up and strode towards the gates.
A few paces later Gayle moved into the darkness of the park, and she set her sights on the street lamps away in the distance. The exit gates to the park were over there somewhere, and the path towards them was straight and wide. She reckoned that if she walked quickly she would be out of the place within no time at all.
Gayle speeded up her step all the same, and she moved on nervously.
Then, just a little way into the park, a bush alongside the path rustled and she turned her head. From the corner of one eye she caught a glimpse of a dark figure moving quickly towards the path and falling in behind her.
She panicked and her already fast stepping pace turned into a trot. She looked around for help, but there was no one else to be seen. The courting couple she encountered by the gates were probably the last people in the park. She could hear footsteps following her on the path, and she wondered what best to do. The heavy footsteps thumping away behind her were going as fast as she was, or even that little bit faster. If anything the gap was closing.
Then something struck her hard on the back of the head, and just before she lost consciousness she felt her dark glasses fly from her face, and her knees hit the ground with thud.
And that was the last thing she was to remember for a long, long time.

End of Chapter Fifteen