Master Vic's story takes a strange turn as he and David watch the pony races. Then, at supper, he talks about Gloria.
This is Chapter Three of four chapters. This is either a Sci-Fi story woven through a BDSM story or a BDSM story woven through a Sci-Fi story. If you're a Sci-Fi geek who doesn't want the BDSM stuff, just skip through that to the Sci-Fi story. If you're a BDSM freak who doesn't care about the Sci-Fi stuff, skip that and enjoy the BDSM portions. The BDSM portions stand more or less on their own, but the Sci-Fi story is in four parts that only make sense if you have read the chapters in sequence.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.
All characters involved in sexual activity in this story are over the age of 18. If you are under the age of 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.
Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2020 by The Technician.
Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
* * * * * * * * * * * *
CHAPTER THREE - A Day at the Races
Doc told David to follow him, so David fell in behind Doc's wheelchair which was pushed by an athletic young man dressed in white shirt, white pants, and white soft-soled shoes. There was a white plastic name tag pinned to his pocket which identified him as Lester Hadcock, RN. The rear doors of the ballroom opened onto a rather large porch which had a wide view of the Marsden Estate. A grand staircase led down to a wide gravel path. On the other side of the path was an elaborately-landscaped flower garden. Alongside the staircase was a recently constructed ramp which led to the path.
Most of the guests were already boarding long electric carts like one would find at large fairs or expositions. There was a smaller cart to one side with a ramp extended from the back. Nurse Lester pushed Doc up the ramp and secured his wheelchair in place. Then Doc said, "Well, don't stand there looking lost, get aboard. David stepped onboard the cart from the side and sat next to Doc. Slave yul followed him and knelt at his side. David noted with some relief that the floor of the cart was carpeted. He hadn't wanted slave yul to have to kneel on a rough metal floor.
A short ride later, the cart pulled up at a slightly undersized racetrack. The track itself appeared to be a full quarter-mile, but the grandstand was probably only capable of holding a couple hundred people at most. Nurse Lester pushed Doc's wheelchair up the walkway which led to the front of the grandstand. There was a special box reserved for him at the finish line. Nurse Lester set Doc's wheelchair in place and secured it, then nodded crisply at Doc and walked back to the cart.
"Les doesn't really approve of all this," Doc said, waving his arm out at the track. "But he stays because I pay him very well." He laughed slightly and then continued, "And I pay him very well because he is worth it."
Doc then pointed to the seat next to him and David sat down. Slave yul started to kneel next to him on the concrete, but David motioned for her to stop. Then he asked Doc, "Is it permissible for yul to sit with us? The concrete is very rough and it could hurt her knees and legs."
"Sitting would be bad form," Doc said. "But there are pads available. She will go get one if you give her permission."
David turned to slave yul and said, "You have permission to go get a pad."
Slave Yul brightened and said, "Thank you, Master." and ran down a ramp that led under the grandstand. She returned shortly with a rubber pad, similar to a yoga mat, but smaller. After setting it on the ground, she knelt next to David and smiled up at him.
David leaned down closer to slave yul and asked softly, "Why didn't you ask to go get a pad?"
Slave yul replied, "A slave should not think of her own comfort. If her Master wants her to be more comfortable, he will give her permission."
David paused and then said, "Slave yul, you have my permission to ask for those things which you need or which would make you more comfortable. Remember, I am new at this and might not recognize your needs as well as an experienced Master."
Slave yul beamed back at him and said, "Thank you, Master. You will be a very good Master to this humble slave."
Doc tapped David on the shoulder and said, "If you want to place any bets on the races, there are windows down below the grandstand."
David asked, "Who are you betting on?"
Doc laughed and said, "I have discovered that the timelooper works both directions. I could just pop forward and see who won before placing a bet. But being able to know who is going to win sort of takes the fun out of betting. Besides, I think some of my friends would start getting suspicious if I won all the time."
"I think I'll just watch the races," David said. "I've never seen this kind of race before."
"It's the same as horse races," Doc said, "except rather than horses we have ponygirls and ponybois."
An elaborately-dressed man stepped onto the track holding a long trumpet. He played the traditional call to post and a line of eight, semi-naked young women pranced out onto the track. All of them were wearing white knee-high boots with built-in hooves and had their arms bound behind their backs in a long white bondage sleeve. Each ponygirl had a different-colored tall, feathered head dress with a hood that covered most of her head. There was a hole in the back of the hood and the ponygirl's hair was pulled through and then wrapped tightly with a colored ribbon before hanging down over their necks. On each of their stomachs was a large painted square which matched the headdress, and in the center of the square was a large white number. As the ponies pranced into position, a soft tinkling sound came from the bells which each ponygirl had hanging from her nipples.
Doc leaned over to David and said, "Sometimes you will see the girls... or the bois... tricked out with butt plugs that have tails. Sometimes, with the girls, its their own hair. There are people who think it makes the ponygirl effect more true to life. But the reality is that they can run a lot faster without something stuck up their ass, and there are a lot of bets on these races. So, the owners are not going to handicap their pony with a butt plug. If it's primarily a show race or a demonstration, then the tails get put on... or in as the case my be."
The ponies were placed in the starting gate and the crowd got very quiet. Then with a loud clank the gates opened and the ponygirls began racing around the track. They weren't exactly running, but they were no longer doing the elaborate prancing that they had done as they were led to the gate. The pony in the lead kept bobbing forward and then straightening up as if she were trying to get a burst of speed and then go back to working on keeping her knees coming up to the prescribed height.
Two ponies- numbers 4 and 7- were in the lead with a significant space between them and the rest of the field as they came around the fourth turn. Both ponygirls were shiny with sweat as they approached the finish line. An announcer was calling the race in the same fashion as if it were actually a horse race. "Pretty baby is ahead by a length, but nice knockers is gaining fast. It's pretty baby by a half-length. It's pretty baby by a breast. It's nipple and nipple as they cross the finish line. Ladies and gentlemen, this will be a photo finish."
Doc leaned over to David and said, "The cameras are electronic so we will have the results almost immediately."
"They looked even," David said.
"If they were," Doc replied with a laugh, "then knockers will win. The first thing over the line is their breasts and nice knockers was named that for a reason."
The announcer confirmed Doc's prediction as he yelled out, "The results are in. It is nice knockers by a nipple. Nice knockers is the winner; pretty baby shows; and pucker butt places."
David shook his head and laughed. "What's so funny?" Doc asked.
"Nice knockers, pretty baby, and pucker butt," David answered. "Yesterday I wouldn't have believed such names, let alone what they are, and today I'm watching ponygirl races."
"And there's time for a ponybois race before we go down to lunch," Doc said. As if on cue, the man with the long trumpet again played the call to post and five ponybois trotted onto the track. The five men were dressed similarly to the women except their hands were cuffed to a bar in front of their chests and held against their chests by leather bindings. Another difference was that the men were barefoot.
"Why are the men barefoot?" David asked.