PART 1 of a 2 PART ADVENTURE.
“On a wet Wednesday afternoon in the small village of Carlton, in North Essex, police are called to a bizarre incident at a long derelict old house which sits at the village crossroads. A young woman has been found wandering around stark naked. She claims her name is Abigail Costner and she lives in the house with her family. The only problem is that house has been empty and abandoned for over fifty years! Jericho Tibbs is on scene because Miss Costner is a missing soul who should have died in 1910. Alex finds she’s undercover [well, as best, as she could be!] in an Edwardian Nudist Colony and sex cult!”
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| EPISODE INFORMATION |
SMOKING - ALCOHOL USE - VIOLENCE [INCLUDING SEXUAL VIOLENCE, BDSM] - STRONG LANGUAGE - GRAPHIC HARD SEX REFERENCES & DIVERSE SEXUAL PRACTISES.
This episode has a reading time of approximately 60 minutes.
This story can be found in "The adventures of Alexandra" BOOK SERIES 3 - Episode 6.
This is the alternative ADULT version of the original episode "THE NAKED TIME TRAVELLER" which is published [both in print and online] in "THE TEMPORAL DETECTIVES" series. It will differ from that episode in some respects. Both series' are written by the author: Stephen J. Williams. To visit that website's page for the original version of this episode please click on 'DETECTIVE' icon in the Navigation Bar at the base of this story: IF AVAILABLE.
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CAUTION: This episode contains graphic references to BDSM [bondage, discipline, sadism, masochism. Note: The D and S have also been taken to stand for dominance and submission.] It will differ greatly from the original as published in the ‘Temporal Detectives’ series. Please be aware of this before reading!
1. CHELMSFORD CROSSROADS, Saturday June 7th, 1969.
Constable John Greggs pulled his ‘Panda’ car into the bus stop space and checked the bright green shed [it actually was a shed with one wall removed and a wooden seat fitted! It didn’t belong to the Essex Bus Company, the locals had erected it themselves, to hide from inclement weather, all the company had supplied was a bloody pole and metal plate] It was empty, which didn’t surprise him, it was Saturday and the only bus that stopped here had already gone. He switched off the engine and placed his cap on, stepping from the little Morris Minor painted blue and white.
He walked along the edge of the quiet carriageway [there was no pavement] and stared down the road which ran to the village of Carlton. There was nothing to see. He sighed and cussed about crank calls from that bloody builder, Bob Menzies, that he had seen a stark-naked young woman walking down this road, looking confused. When he had driven through the crossroads, heading up the Chelmsford Road. Bob said he had turned around but found no trace and now Constable Greggs had the same result. Nothing, no naked lady.
John turned and walked back to his car and stopped, staring at the sight peering into the passenger side window. It was a naked young woman – a very pretty, but naked young woman – who turned and stared at him. He walked up slowly, enjoying the view and as he drew near, he could see she was very pretty indeed with her fine big breasts and dark hairy fanny really catching his eye. He reprimanded himself for those thoughts and told himself he had to act like a professional police officer. He sighed again: that was going to be bloody difficult when confronted by something like this. He raised his hand and said – with some authority – and a smile, “Can I help you miss?”
The young woman clasped her hands together and nodded, she seemed totally unconcerned that she was stark naked on a public road, talking to a policeman! She looked about and started to cry and babble about her house being in ruins and no sign of her family and could he help her. He pulled off his jacket and draped it around her, with some reluctance it should be noted! Carefully he persuaded her to sit in the rear of the car, clutching his jacket about herself. She sobbed and told him that her name was Miss Abigail Costner and her family lived at Hendon House, but it was now just a derelict with no sign of her family. “I just walked through the old, ruined archway, going to the picnic by the stream when I found that there was no-one there and the place was very different. I don’t understand what happened, where is everyone? We were having such fun after the carriage race, where Alex won with mummy and there was champagne and she received some flowers and could pick the man who would…..” She stopped shouting and curled up on the seat, sobbing and repeating “I don’t know what happened!”
The young constable wiped his face and stared at the crying girl. This beats anything he had dealt with before and told her that someone at the station would fetch her help from the hospital for her and she shouldn’t upset herself. He gripped the wheel and remembered where Hendon House was, less than half mile down the road, but it was, as she stated, now derelict after being unoccupied for over fifty years. The name Costner did ring a bell, hadn’t they been the local landowners around here before the first world war? But the family’s one son [and heir] had been killed in war and the family moved away, to America he believed, but wasn’t sure. He looked back at the distraught girl and shook his head: what a waste, beautiful and mentally ill. He told her they would head to the police station and sort it all out. But he guessed that without serious medication and psychiatric care, there was little hope for her. That thought made him really sad and he pitied the young beauty.
John started the car and headed for the village and the police station, he had to smile, old sergeant Barny Kemp was going to love this one! Maybe the national press could get involved and make an appeal to find her family? Now he smiled at that, it was something positive. He turned for a moment and looked at the girl, now quiet and sucking her thumb. Sweet Jesus, what a fucking waste he thought again.
Divij pulled the big Rover car over and stopped. The hospital car park had only few cars and an ambulance, so he picked a space by the entrance doors. An ambulance man was sitting at the wheel, and he glanced over and then went back to reading his paper. “More bloody press I guess.” He muttered to himself, then sat up and smiled, talking to himself, “Now that’s what I call a fucking chick!” And watched really carefully as the young man slipped from the rear and kept the door open for the woman to step out. She was a real beauty with a tight-fitting blouse and short mini skirt. Her breasts were big, and her legs were long. “If she’s a fucking reporter, then I picked the wrong sodding career!” He said to himself and leaned on the open window and smiled.
Jericho just nodded to him and called the team to the bottom of the steps and discretely consulted his mirror, speaking softly as Divij, Owen and Alex gathered around him. “You’ve seen the old newspaper report about her. Basically found stark naked at a village crossroads, claiming she was a Miss Abigail Costner who lived in a derelict house near there. Hendon House which was last occupied in 1916. The family moved to America after the only son was killed on the Somme and the place fell into disrepair. It will be renovated in 1979 by a large hotel chain and turned into a luxury country hotel. That must have a cost a fortune, even in those days. Owen, what have you got for that name in this time and place.”
Owen thrust his hands into his jeans pocket and nodded, “There should have been an Abigail Foster, nee Costner who should have been collected in 1910 after dying of appendicitis near Christmas that year, but she’s a missing soul. Well, until she appeared stark naked at those crossroads. But obviously we need to run a mirror over this woman to confirm that. She dropped from the timeline in 1910 and nothing was heard of her until a few days ago and this is 1969 currently. So she must have time travelled, but not voluntarily I strongly suspect. So, I believe there must be a time portal near that house you mentioned. She’s not the first one to disappear around here. I have four other people missing, One from the 1600’s, one from 1823, one from 1899 and of course, Miss Costner in 1910. But the house and family in Edwardian times had quite a risqué reputation. Apparently, the place was an early nudist colony and if the rumours are true, contained a sex cult that got up to all sorts of weird things.”
Divij grunted, “So a bunch of perverts were having fun. I can imagine what sordid games they got up to, probably orgies and the like.” Owen whispered to Alex, “Probably never been invited to one.” Alex restrained herself from giggling and stared at the ambulance driver, who smiled at her and blew a kiss. She ignored him and said to Jericho, “What’s this about a woman called Alex being mentioned by the poor girl?”
Now Jericho smiled as he gestured up the steps for them to follow him. “That’s the real interesting part Alexandra, she describes a guest at the house who – apparently – was stunningly beautiful, behaved like an unpaid whore and took park in kinky games. You didn’t take a holiday here in 1910, did you?”
But he laughed and they stopped at reception. Alex muttered about never being here before and folded her arms. The elderly woman on reception listened carefully to Jericho explaining they were from ‘The Daily Mirror’ to cover the story of the girl found on the crossroads. He pointed out that a picture and headlines could bring her family forth. The old lady just nodded and picked up the phone; “I'll fetch Doctor Roberts. She’s in his care, so, please take a seat.” She pointed to some plastic chairs against a wall and the team sat and waited.
Owen whispered to Alex, “Now that woman called Alex does sound like you! I wonder what the kinky games were? I know one thing, if this mission is on, I can’t change into Jackie, not in a bloody nudist colony!” Alex stuck up a single finger but smiled. But he was right: he certainly couldn’t play Jackie in a nudist colony in 1910! They waited for about ten minutes, then an elderly doctor appeared, complete with a bright white coat and stethoscope. He shook Jericho’s hand and asked how he could help. Jericho recounted their cover story and he nodded approvingly “Any confirmation of her identity would be good. She claims she is Abigail Costner who was born in 1890, which is course, totally impossible. So we must ascertain her true identity and hopefully, find some family to discharge her care too. If I recall, the Costner family did reside in Hendon House until the middle of the Great war, but the place has been empty for years, almost over half a century If I’m right.” He folded his arms and shook his head, “Some of the stories she has spoken about, under sedation, of what happened at the house is quite incredible. Naked parties, sex orgies, BDSM and kinky games! Quite an imagination for one so young.” He gestured for them to follow him.
They
gathered around the sleeping girls bed and Divij pretended to take a picture
with his cumbersome camera: he was playing the photographer of the group. Jericho
was the head reporter [of course!] Alex was the female reporter who would
conduct any interview, if they could obtain one, and Owen was the junior
reporter, sent for experience. Owen discretely operated his mirror as Jericho
spoke with Doctor Roberts. He didn’t smile and nodded at the others. They all
knew that the girl was, indeed, the missing Miss Abigail Costner: the mission
was on. He turned to Alex and grinned; “Looks like you’re in for a kinky time
and you can say it’s in the line of duty, you lucky so and so.” Alex just
sighed.
2. HENDON HOUSE, Thursday 23rd June 1910.
Lady Agatha placed the phone down and smiled. She turned to Lady Maude who was reading ‘The Sketch’ and said quietly, “That was Francis – the painter – he says he has convinced a beautiful model of his to come for the weekend and she’s quite game for anything. Now, he doesn’t paint anyone who is not utterly beautiful and enjoys being naked. He certainly has a reputation for that apparently.” Lady Maude lowered her paper, now interested a little in the newcomer. “This Francis fellow is a good painter? I was thinking of having Isabella painted nude now she’s turned sixteen. I thought it would be a nice gift for her stepfather considering the money he pours on us. He could add it to his collection of nude young girls.” Lady Agatha just smiled, Lord Pemberstone had a dark reputation for liking very young girls and that was the very reason she never invited him to the house parties. She certainly didn’t trust him around underage girls who were not permitted in join in the games until they were eighteen.
It was one of Agatha’s strictest rules.
She sat by the fireplace and checked her guest list for this weekend and added two more names: A certain Miss Alexandra Keppel [she wondered if she was related to the famous Keppel who had been the late King’s mistress, well, one of them!] and Mister Francis Jones, an up-and-coming Yorkshire painter who had quite licentious reputation apparently. According to rumour, he enjoyed both men and women. Agatha smiled to herself, that should please the Thompson twins who fucked both men and women with gay abandon. [at this time ‘Gay’ simply meant you were very happy and not homosexual, though it was probably accurate for the twins, who would – today – be referred to as bisexual]
Agatha looked up at the clock and rose from her bureau’s chair and pulled the servant’s bell. “It’s almost eleven Maude, their train will be arriving in fifteen minutes. I’ll get Carson to pick them up from the station. This Alex woman can have the room next to my niece, Abigail. She’s friendly to everyone, especially strangers. The young painter can have a room in the Bachelors corridor, probably next to Gordon.”
Lady Maude chuckled, “Do you think your niece will be as friendly to strangers as her mother was? Your late brother had a few headaches over her friendliness!” Agatha just sighed and didn’t answer because Scopes the butler had appeared. She instructed him to send Carson to the railway station and pick up the two new late arrivals. He bowed and left without a word. Agatha now smiled, she always looked forward to shedding her clothes and being as nature intended, especially when surrounded by people who thought the same. She smiled at Maude, back reading her paper and hoped that the new girl [Alex?] would join in the games. Particularly the races, which where her favourite’s. Then of course, she hoped this month, to win some of her money back off Maude. Her ‘pony’ was quite athletic and last month had won three of the five races and cost Agatha almost a hundred Guinea’s. She sat back down and smiled again, this time thinking about the carriage races: her in the driving seat with her ‘pony’ harnessed up and pulling the custom-built little carriage. She always loved the sight of her pony’s arse and breasts bouncing as they ran, and especially, when she flicked their bums with her little whip. Oh, yes, she loved the naughty races.
Agatha sat back in the comfortable chair and remembered last month’s ‘games’ and the big breasted French woman who came with old Colonel Parks. Agatha had won thirty guinea’s on her. The woman had completed the two circuits of the ballroom in about four minutes, with two half full buckets suspended from her breasts by a pole which they were tied too. And she didn’t spill a drop as she walked rapidly around the ballroom course with the full weight of the buckets and water on her big firm breasts. She even won the evening race despite having to carry an extra vagina weight. Agatha had made another twenty guinea’s off the reverend, who foolishly bet against her. Agatha had an eye for such strange talent. Yes, the ‘breast & bucket’ races were popular for a rainy day or evening entertainment!
The other event she always looked forward too was the evening ‘Punch bowl Pick up’. Those taking part wrote their names on little cards – blue for males and pink for females – then they were placed in the silver punch bowl, and someone drew the cards out alternatively, so each couple was a pink or blue card. That was their sexual partner for the night. Agatha now really smiled as she remembered drawing the reverend and his obsession with anal sex. She didn’t sit properly for a couple days after he spend the entire night – well almost – with his cock buried in her anus. She chuckled to herself, thank heaven for Vaseline! Maude looked up and smiled; “Now what’s amused you? It certainly won’t be thinking about the races, what will you do Now that young Tabitha has returned home to Ireland? You need to find another pony quickly I’d say.” Agatha just smiled back at her “You know me Maude, give me a strong girl with good thighs and big breasts and I’ll turn her into a pony overnight. There’s not much too it. They just have to run and pull the cart. The skill, as you know, is in handling the carriage and the pony. And of course, a whip helps!” They both laughed and Agatha glanced out of the big window and saw Carson disappearing down the gravel drive. Maybe this Alex women could be the answer, she thought.
Owen carried two cases to the car, while Carson carried one and held open the door for the ‘lady’ to slip into the rear seats. The men strapped the luggage to the rear of the car and Owen joined Alex, watching the chauffer crank the engine. “Apparently, the staff who don’t like to play are given home leave, fully paid, so they think Lady Agatha is the best employer ever. So, basically the house runs with a ‘skeleton’ staff over the dirty long weekends, and I understand that only the Under Butler, a certain Mister Edwards stays with one footman, called Peter. The only other staff are two questionable maids: Alice and Helen. Then there’s the cook and her assistant. A Mrs. Fudge – what a great name of a cook! – and Miss Rachel King. I don’t know if the chauffer stays, I suppose we could always ask him!” Owen spoke quietly, stopping as the chauffer eased behind the wheel and started the car.
Alex had been watching Carson the chauffer carefully, he walked with real poise and must be in his early forties. She admired his big strong hands and noticed they were manicured! Which wasn’t unusual for the upper classes at this time, but very unusual for working class men. She leaned forward and tapped the glass that separated the driver from the passengers. Carson turned a little and said, “Yes madam.” Alex smiled and also noticed that Carson was quite a handsome man up close. “Carson, will you be around this weekend, if we need to use the car?” [Owen chuckled at that, Alex always hit the nail on the head] The chauffer slowly smiled, “Yes, I will madam. Just call and I will run you anywhere you wish.” Alex thanked him and sat back. Owen tapped her hand and nodded, whispering, “I think he’ll be more than happy to get you back in his car.” Alex just smiled and watched the beautiful countryside passing by.
They reached Hendon House less than fifteen minutes later and Mister Edwards was waiting to collect their bags and show them their rooms. He stated that Lady Agatha will see them both at lunch. Owen noticed that the ‘Under-Butler’ couldn’t keep his eyes off Alex, just like Carson the chauffer couldn’t. Alex swept into the grand house unaware that Lady’s Agatha and Maude were watching from the High Gallery, at the top of the stairs. “Beautiful and looks very fit, you may be in luck Agatha.” Lady Maude tapped her best friends arm and Lady Agatha nodded. Oh, yes, she has big breasts that appear perfect for a harness. I will see how she reacts at lunch today to my suggestions. Agatha now felt much happier about the forthcoming weekend. The two women walked away as Owen and Alex ascended the grand staircase with Edwards in tow. He showed them their rooms and left, smiling at Alex as he did. Owen just sighed, “More bloody moths to the flame.” Which drew a disapproving look from Alex, who then just smiled; because he was right!
Jericho checked his mirror and sat back in the uncomfortable chair and stared out the small window which overlooked the rear yard of the ‘Royal Sovereign’ public house in Carlton village. The pub’s enclosed yard had a small stables and numerous barrels scattered about. There didn’t appear to be a horse in the stables, Jericho knew because the door was hanging off and he could see that the stables were full of discarded furniture, more barrels and a huge ornate wardrobe, that for some strange reason, was painted entirely black. Divij joined him from the bathroom and sat on the other small single bed. “Apparently lunch is bloody shepherd’s pie and peas. I asked for something vegetarian, and the woman said they only cook English cuisine, but said there was a French restaurant in Chelmsford! Have they called in yet?”
Jericho
smiled and shook his head, they should now be at the house and he, with Divij
would go over the wall tonight to seek out the ancient archway that Abigail
said she walked through. They couldn’t try in daylight because the house would
now be locked down for the ‘dirty weekend’. Lady Agatha took her privacy and security
very seriously. The perimeter was patrolled by men with shotguns and dogs, and
they were paid very good money to do their job well. He had just read about an
incident in 1909 where two reporters from ‘The News of the World’ had been shot
at and attacked by dogs, after sneaking into the grounds. Despite the papers
outrage, their were no charges preferred against Lady Agatha. Apparently, she
had very powerful friends [and maybe patrons?] in the British Government.
“If we find that the old archway is a time portal, I’ll close it and since this is 1910, young Abigail won’t stumble through it and end up naked in 1969, so, this mission will never have to take place.” Jericho stared out the window again and at the big black wardrobe, he rubbed his chin thinking, then his attention was the knock at the door. Divij stood and opened it and Maisie, the serving girl sauntered in, carrying a tea tray. “Tea for two, with some fruit cake.” She said and placed the tray down, adding, “Shall I put you two gentlemen down for lunch?”
Jericho nodded and handed the girl a sixpence which she kissed and dropped in her apron pocket. “Bless you sir, now is there anything else you want?” Divij was already pouring himself a cup when Jericho asked the girl about the big house on the crossroads and that he thought, he saw men with shotguns and dogs at the main gates. ”Does some politician or foreign dignitaries reside there?” He nonchalantly asked, accepting a cup from Divij. The girl chuckled, “Gawd no sir, just Lady Agatha Rawley. It’s one of her special weekends so the place is locked away. The rumours are that the new King [George V] will visit, like his late father [Edward VII] did. Her late husband was a great friend of the old King.”
Divij and Jericho exchanged a concerned glance if what the girl was saying happened to be true, then this mission had taken a very dangerous turn. A very, very important historical figure could put in a private, discrete appearance and their actions [Team 74] mustn’t alter anything that happens at the house over the weekend, or the current timeline could change dramatically. Just stop Miss Costner from taking a little trip in time!
They waited for the happy girl to leave, before Jericho called Alex on her mirror and explained that she and Owen may encounter royalty, and nothing must be altered whilst they [the royalty] are there. Alex understood clearly what Jericho was saying and acknowledged it. She turned to Owen who was sitting on her bed, “We could bump into bloody King George the Fifth! Jericho says we must avoid any contact with him should he actually turn up. Apparently, his bloody father – the dirty old sod – was a visitor here during these naughty weekends. No-one wonder the press didn’t jump all over what’s been happening here, they had a closed mouth policy regarding the naughty going’s on of royalty in this time and place. Very little of the royal misdemeanours appeared in the newspapers. I struggled to understand how Lady Agatha escaped the intrusive eyes of the British press, now I bloody know!” Owen nodded, “This could be interesting Alex, turn a corner and there’s a naked King George V staring at you! What do we do?” Alex managed a smile, “Well, despite being stark naked, I would have to curtsey, and you would have to bow.” She giggled at that, adding “Run like fuck, we cannot change anything that happens this weekend, except ensure that poor Abigail doesn’t go time travelling. We just have to ignore any bloody King’s that turn up!”
Alex flopped on the bed next to Owen and placed her hands on her head. “Oh Fuck! I just recalled that Abigail said this ‘Alex’ woman took park in the kinky games, pulling a bleeding cart with her tits harnessed up and other stuff. This means I can’t get out of it. If that bloody King is here, me not doing something that he’s a part of will alter history. You know, the bloody ‘Butterfly’ effect or whatever they call it. Now what do I do?”
Owen leaned over and kissed her forehead, “Harness up your big hooters and think of the Department!” He waved a hand in mock salute. She laughed and pulled him to her and kissed his lips. “You are my favourite Medieval novice monk!” They now kissed for a few seconds, then their tongues explored as she pulled him down on her. That’s when there was a knock at the door, they quickly broke the kiss and stood, straightening their clothes.
“Come in.” Alex said and they were both surprised to see Miss Abigail Costner appear. They both stared and Owen really smiled. Miss Abagail Costner was stark naked apart from her slippers and a pink ribbon holding her long blond hair up. “It’s alright, the servants who don’t like fun have left and now we can be naked as we should be. Clothes are nice but I like to be natural. My aunt Agatha says if God wanted us to wear clothes, then the snake in the garden of Eden would have a been a Jewish Taylor!”
Both
Alex and Owen managed to smile, and Abigail introduced herself and Owen did the
same for Alex and him. He introduced himself as ‘Francis Jones’ and Alex as ‘Alexandra
Keppel’.
Abigail gripped Alex’s hand, “Come on Alex! I know we’re going to be friends and have a great weekend. There are no lady’s maids, so I’ll help you out of your clothes.” She started to unbutton Alex’s jacket, then turned to Owen. “You too Francis.” And giggled. Within minutes, Alex and Owen were naked and Abigail hadn’t stopped talking. She was, in common parlance of the times, a bloody chatterbox. She talked all the way down the stairs to the dining room for lunch. At one point, she simply took hold of one of Alex’s tits and squeezed it, saying “Aunty Agatha will love you and these Alex, she needs a new pony, and these are great for a carriage’s harness. I’ll put my money on you!” She dropped the tit and gestured them into the dining room.
Alex and Owen exchanged an amused look, then shrugged their shoulders and marched into the busy dining room. Owen whispered, “Funny enough Alex, I have never imagined you as a pony. I can’t think why I haven’t!” Alex just smiled as Abigail was still talking and heard something about the championship cup being worth nearly a thousand guinea’s. That was incredibly serious money for these times. And there was three championship weekends each season. She now guessed that the patrons who attended Agatha’s parties were amongst the rich and powerful. Little wonder the press – who was owned by these types of people - never reported a damn thing. They were not surprised to find everyone was stark bollocking naked, including the staff! Owen said quietly, “Don’t spill the soup in your lap.” And Alex, to Abigail’s puzzlement, laughed out loud, then recovered and took her place opposite a tall thin man wearing a vicar’s collar. He smiled and introduced himself, “The reverend Harold Fisher at your service. My word they are a fine set of milkers, watch out, naughty Agatha will have you strapped to her carriage. The soup is very good and anal is my favourite, I do love a fine tight bum on a woman. Do you indulge my dear?” He sipped his soup.
Alex almost dropped her crackers and just stared at the smiling reverend until Abigail, sitting next to Owen giggled, “Oh Alex, at these weekends we don’t conform to social conventions. If you want sex with someone, just ask! Harry loves to put it up our bums, he’s such a sweetie.” Alex could hear Owen softly laughing and managed a smile as she introduced herself and her friend, the painter Francis. ‘This could turn out to be the best bloody mission we’ve ever undertaken.’ She thought, lifting her soup spoon.
3. LUNCH WITH GORDON AND SOME SNOOKER.
Alex had noticed Lady Agatha watching her from the head of the table. The woman smiled at her and spoke to the other woman sitting in the next seat down, next to a rough looking man who slurped his soup noisily. She was to be introduced to Lady Maude and Colonel Harrington-Walker later as the weekend unfolded. Owen was getting on really well with Abigail, who at one point, slapped her hand on his cock and gave it a little jerk. She whispered in his ear and now Owen really did smile.
Alex threw a casual glance at the big man sitting next to her [on her right] and saw that he was quite an athletic type with big hands and a nice smile. He finished talking to the dark-haired woman on his left and turned to Alex, catching her looking at him. He immediately introduced himself, “Mr. Gordon Watts, at your service.” He had a deep voice and Alex liked his green eyes and sandy blond hair. She couldn’t help it and glanced down at his lap. His cock was laid against his thighs and as was perfectly acceptable to Alex, who introduced herself. He gestured to the reverend with his spoon, who was listening – with some patience, Alex thought, to Abigail chattering on – and said quietly, “Harry loves anal, so watch your bum. He’ll poke it at the drop of a hat. So, if you’re not into that, don’t for God sakes, bend over anywhere near him!” Alex did laugh at that and thanked Gordon for his warning. Oh yes, she already liked this big man. She noticed that he’s well-tanned and quite fit, so she asked if he had been on holiday abroad.
Gordon chuckled, “You could say that Alex, I’m an explorer and adventurer, treasure hunter and a Chartered Surveyor by profession. The tan is from the Congo, I went upriver and tried to make friends with the natives, especially the women! But I fear rotten civilisation had already reached their villages. The women wanted nothing to do with poor pathetic me unless I presented the girls with a damn goat. It was hot and I was horny. In three weeks I ran out of bloody goats, and they wouldn’t accept dead alligators, so I was now hot, horny and bloody frustrated. They walked about in just a little piece of cotton concealing heaven’s gateway. Worse three weeks I ever spent in Africa. I almost danced when I received Agatha’s invitation. I need to empty my balls before they harden, fall off and get bloody mistaken for marbles!”
Alex was now laughing and grabbed his big thigh, whispering “I’m sure some of the ladies here will help, after all, we can’t have your poor balls turning to marbles just because you’ve run out of damn goats!” The pair laughed together until Agatha rose and tapped her wine glass with a fork. The table fell silent as she spoke, “Welcome everyone to Hendon House, hopefully a little sexual oasis in the wilderness of sexual repression. Tonight, as usual, there will be the ‘Introductions Ball’ so those new to the games can meet, greet and fuck whoever they wish.” She received applause for those comments and continued, “For those ladies who wish it, there are plenty of contraception devices available. Just visit Lady Maude who will fix you up. I will run over the few house rules we have. One; no violent sex games unless the woman….or man agrees. Two: What happens at Hendon House, stays in Hendon House. No gossip or title-tattle please, thankfully the press will report nothing that happens here because of our powerful patrons, and that’s all I’ll say on that point. Three: All sexual activities MUST be consensual and agreed by the participants, believe me you don’t want to break that rule. Our patron’s employ ‘enforcers’ who will deal with anyone foolish enough to disregard this very important rule. You have been warned, so take heed. Anyone who breaks this rule will not end up in court but may find staying alive a difficulty. Four: Bloody enjoy yourselves and fuck freely and happily with whoever you wish!”
Lady Agatha received thunderous applause and a few cheers as she sat down and spoke with Lady Maude and the colonel. Alex saw her looking at her again and wondered if she was the topic under discussion. Gordon tapped her thigh, “Agatha will ask you to be her pony for these games. You’ve certainly fit enough, and those big breasts are perfect for the carriages. You’ll probably enjoy it. I know that I will damn well love watching you race.” He kept his hand on her thigh and Alex made no attempt to remove it. “I’ll certainly consider it Gordon, it does sound like fun.”
Gordon nodded, “Especially if you don’t try hard enough and Agatha has to use her whip on your exquisite backside. Her last pony Tabitha deliberately would hang back a little, just so that Agatha would use her whip. But then Tabitha liked being tied over a wooden horse and fucked up her bum by some of the men who formed a line. She was quite a sport and will be sadly missed, the poor creature.” Alex was now concerned at his words about Tabitha and asked what happened to her. Gordon sighed and shook his head. “Worse fate ever, the poor girl had to return to Ireland and marry an absolute prude who adored her!”
Alex now laughed again and moved her hand from his thigh to his flaccid cock and stroked it. “I think Gordon, I can help with the damn marbles problem.” He just smiled and dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “I do hope your little pink card is pulled with my blue card tonight.” Alex asked what he meant, and he explained about the ‘Punch Bowl Pick up’ game. Alex squeezed his cock and whispered that she hoped his blue card fell next to her pink one. “I like the sound of that my dear.” He said quietly and squeezed her thigh. She already liked his touch and that bode well with her. Pink or blue cards notwithstanding, Gordon – hopefully - would be fucking her tonight.
After lunch, Owen and Alex stood in the grand hallway and read the notice board about the weekend. It displayed the timetable of events and they both saw that the guests were split into ‘teams’ with team captains. There were five teams; Team 1 was called the ‘Hendon’s’ and consisted of Agatha as captain, Gordon Watts, Abigail Costner, George Durie and Alex Keppel. Owen checked the list and found he was on ‘the Spirits’ team under Lady Maude. The other three captains of the remaining teams were Colonel Harrington-Walker [team: ‘Golden Shower’] Lady Alice Darlington [team: Venus’] and finally, Sir Herbert Everett [team: Aphrodite’]. For some reason, Alex noted that the reverend was on Lady Maude’s team.
Abigail appeared in the doorway of the snooker room and waved them over, “Come on, the colonel and Sir Herbert have a huge wager on the snooker!” Alex and Owen wandered over and Alex noted that Abigail pushed her arm through Owens as they walked into the smoke-filled room, which seemed full of naked men, enjoying cigars. The game was already in progress. Alex and Owen just had to smile, two women were bending over the snooker table with cues in the hands, while two gentleman were mounted on them! Apparently if the lady managed to knock a ball into the pocket, her male companion had to fuck her hard and fast for five full minutes. There was even a big sand timer to count the minutes. Then the ‘game’ resumed with the opponent taking their shot. Alex noticed that the balls seemed well spread and close to the pockets, which made her smile. Abigail gripped Owen’s arm “Come on Francis, let’s put our names down for the next match. I put seven down the last time I played with Arthur Soames as my partner. He’s a bit old and could only manage to last until ball four. So we were disqualified, but it was fun!”
Owen rubbed his chin, he hadn’t seen that name on the team listings and asked where the old chap was. Abigail didn’t smile, “After the game, he said he needed to rest and sadly, died in his sleep. The ‘Cock sucking’ game has been named after his memory.” Alex managed to restrain from laughing and whispered to Owen, “I bet they found him with a bloody big smile on his face.” Abigail sighed, “He was a lovely old man who took the games seriously, I was his pony last season, and he really marked my bum with his whip for not trying. What a lovely old gent!” Alex couldn’t answer that and stared back at the table, a big breasted girl had knocked a red down and was now gripping the edge of the snooker table as the man fucked her hard and fast, as the rules required. Owen seemed fascinated by the sand timer as it’s sand poured down and filled the bottom glass. “One of the oldest timepieces in the world, apart from Sun dials I believe.” He informed Abigail who had written their names on the chalk board. She stared at the timer and looked genuinely shocked, “Oh dear, I don’t think Aunty Agatha would like one of her antiques used.” Owen just stared at her pretty face and sighed. He didn’t bother to explain further.
Alex just had to ask, “What happens when all the red balls are gone? Do they continue to play with the coloured ones?” Abigail nodded, explaining: “When all the red balls have been pocketed, you have to knock down the coloured ones, starting with yellow. The difference is now the timer is set for three minutes of hard and fast fucking, but up the bum. I’ve never seen it get to just the black ball!” Alex strangely enough wasn’t surprised by that revelation. She excused herself and left the pair in the snooker room waiting their turn. She looked around for Gordon with the naughty idea of inviting him to her room for an afternoon sex session. “When in Rome…” She muttered to herself as she climbed the stairs. Alex was disappointed, so took an afternoon nap until dinner. After taking a bath and adjusting her hair, she went to dinner, meeting Owen at the bottom of the stairs. He didn’t look happy. “Bloody could kick myself Alex, we got all the way to the pink ball, and I bloody couldn’t stop myself. I think Abigail is a little disappointed in me, but her arse was tight and sweet, I couldn’t stop myself. We got some huge applause, and the Colonel told me that no-one had reached pink before.”
Alex just patted his arm, “Well, smile you fool, you should be happy.” Owen asked why he should be, and Alex grinned, “You certainly potted the brown one well!” Now they both laughed. Then they were joined by Lady Agatha and Alex had to admire the woman, despite being in her late forties, her body was near perfect – like Lady Maude’s – with her big breasts only sagging a little, but men would forgive that because of her wonderful big nipples, which easily matched Alex’s gems. All in all, she fitted the old saying, ‘A beautiful young woman was a work of art, but a beautiful older woman was a masterpiece’.
Lady Agatha apologised for not speaking to them earlier, but Alex waved that away. “I will come straight to the point Alexandra, I need a new pony and I wonder if you would consider volunteering. It can be great fun, and everyone loves the pony races. I have been champion four times, equal with Lady Maude over the seasons. You are perfect for the role, will you consider it please?” Alex was about to speak when Abigail appeared and pushed her arm through her aunts. “Of course Alex will dear aunty! She’s a real sport and I would step in myself but I’m Sir Herbert’s for this season and I have already promised him.”
Alex just smiled and nodded which made lady Agatha happy and she pulled Alex to one side, leaving Owen and Abigail talking together. “Come on Alex, I’ll show you what’s involved. The colonel is taking his pony for exercise this evening and he’s about to set off from the stables for a quick circuit around the house. His girl is Rosaline, I understand you saw her playing snooker this afternoon. Fine big tits like yours.” They walked to the front door and stood on the steps, the evening was still quite warm, and Agatha gripped her arm and gestured down the drive. The sight surprised Alex: the colonel was sitting in a dark black carriage that just carried him. The carriage was almost a incredible miniature of a real racing carriage that horses pulled. His pony was indeed the girl Alex saw playing snooker earlier.
She was wearing a black leather corset, embroidered with silver studs and black lace French Knickers [so her legs could move freely] little running boots and a wonderful headband with a striking, large red ostrich feather. Her breasts were bare, with leather straps that wrapped each individual tit. From there reins snaked back to the driver. “That’s how the pony’s is guided, a tug on the left rein will pull her tit left and so she goes left and it works the same with the right. She has a proper mouth bit which is traditional like the feather headgear. The pony’s doing well, and her arse only has a few marks of the whip on it. The Colonel is known to demand that his pony gives 100% or she gets reminders. Pulling back on both reins means stop and some drivers test their pony’s trust and obedience – when new – by driving towards the garden wall and stopping just yards from it. A couple of pony’s panicked and stopped without orders, so they were disciplined by being bend over the wooden horse in the stables and paddled. You must understand, that when you’re the pony, you MUST obey your masters commands. Also, pony’s never talk, they may nod their head yes or no, but must not speak. After all real horses don’t talk do they?”
Alex watched the pair pass the steps, turning around the corner with the Colonel shouting encouragement and his pony/Rosaline obeying the left tug of her breasts without slowing. They disappeared out of sight, so Lady Agatha and Alex walked to the dining room, arm in arm, discussing tomorrows ‘Fox Hunt’ and more importantly, Saturday’s carriage races. Alex now understood why the pony’s had to have strong thighs and legs. And of course, big tits!
Agatha explained on the last day, there was a pony parade with the girls decked out in show harnesses and costumes. The best pony picked up an incredible one hundred guineas, a huge sum of money for the times. As they walked through the dining room doors, Alex was surprised to find Agatha’s hand on her arse, squeezing her bum cheek. Agatha said quietly, “I know you work as a model, so I’ll give you a little present of a hundred guinea’s if you behave yourself as my pony and obey my commands at all times. Then if you win the parade, you’ll not have to work for some time and can enjoy yourself with the money. If you wish, you can stay here as my full-time pony, and I’ll train you for the big races that the little club I belong too holds all year round. It means you’ll travel across Europe and even America. The club – like Hendon House – has very powerful and rich patrons. You’ll receive free lodgings here and where we stay, you can have a very good life, travelling and making money. When this weekend is finished, please stay for another week and I’ll start your training for the professional racing circuit. We’ll have such fun!”
Alex
now realised that Hendon House was just part of a ‘club’ run by the rich and
powerful to satisfy their strange sexual desires and to supply girls for the
pony races which apparently happened all around Europe and the USA. For some
reason that made her uneasy and she would discuss it with the rest of the team:
especially Jericho. Alex had now decided to decline Lady Agatha’s generous
offer, but she was in a quandary, if she now didn’t race at Hendon House: would
that change the current timeline?
4. THE ‘PUNCH BOWL PICK UP’ AND NIGHT MANEUVERS.
Dinner was good and the conversation around the large table was lively and to Alex’s mind, quite open, frank, and honest. People discussed sex openly which made Alex smile, considering the normal conversations that took place at Edwardian diner parties. She glanced down the table and was a little envious of the woman sitting next to Gordon, they were laughing together, and Alex expertly read her body language: she wanted Gordon to fuck her. She smiled at Owen, who sitting next to Abigail and pair certainly appeared to be getting on: she must have forgiven him for missing pink! The older gentleman sitting next to her was talking to her, she turned and smiled; it was Sir Herbert, and he was asking her about her ‘modelling’ career and did she ever pose for naughty photographs. She had to nod yes [See episode: ‘Alexandra: The reluctant French Maid’] He now smiled broadly and leaned closely, “I’ve been told that I’m a damn good amateur photographer and I would pay you handsomely for a mornings work. You know I expect legs open, insertion of toys in your pink and brown flowers, a little lesbian action and some straight sex with a stud. I have a friend who specialies in the really hardcore stuff and he pays a fortune for the right girls. Would you be interested my dear?” Alex managed to smile and said she would think about it. That took her all of two seconds and the answer – unsurprisingly – would be NO.
After dinner, they headed for the large reception room and gathered around Lady Agatha who stood before a small card table that had a beautiful silver punch bowl placed upon it and she was handing out little cards to everyone who wanted one. Alex took hers and Agatha really smiled at her. Alex wrote her name upon the pink card and was going to pretend to drop it in the bowl, but secretly keep it in her hand. But Agatha laid her hand upon hers and slowly took the card, “I drop them in dear, I have to make sure that the number of pink cards equal the blue ones. So that no-one is disappointed, you understand.” Alex nodded and watched Agatha drop her card in; she cussed herself, how didn’t she know that? It was bloody really obvious if she had thought about it.
When all the cards where in, Agatha stirred the pot with a large silver spoon and shouted “ABRACADBRA!” She then asked Lady Maude to draw the cards. There were some interesting matches, Sir Herbert – the perverted amateur photographer – was matched with Helena, Gordon drew Lady Agatha [that didn’t please Alex or his dinner lady] Lady Maude drew Mr. Cope, the nervous looking little man with glasses and Alex guessed why he was nervous, Lady Maude had the reputation as a maneater and, when Alex glanced at his crotch, he certainly didn’t have necessary equipment to take her on! But Alex’s attention was drawn back to the draw, Lady Maude had called out her name and now had Alex’s undivided attention as she pulled out a blue card. She held it aloft and said; “The Reverend!” He seemed very pleased and walked over, like he had just won a bleeding top prize at the village fete raffle. All he said to Alex – smiling broadly – was “Your room or mine?” Alex said she didn’t mind.
With the draw over, champagne was served, and everyone headed to their rooms with their draw partner. Alex noted that Owen had drawn a girl called Rosaline, she was Colonel Harrington-Walker’s pony girl and had quite a pair of breasts. Alex smiled at Owen and whispered; “You’ll enjoy them!” He whispered back, “They will remind me of you.” Alex chuckled at that then felt the reverend holding her hand, “Come on Alex, let’s get to it. If we finish early, we may be able to swap with another couple, if you want. I had drawn Agatha last time and she was a real sport, so there was no swap, she kept me happy!” Alex just smiled again, that probably meant Lady Agatha spend the night with the dirty reverend poking her bum hole! Hand in hand they disappeared into the reverends room.
Alex sat on the bed and watched the reverend fumbling in the bedside cabinet drawers, one hand holding his erecting cock which wasn’t small by any means. Alex picked up the water pitcher and poured a glass, she strongly suspected that he would – like most men – would want his cock sucked before sex. She sipped the water and almost spat it out. He had produced a small jar of Vaseline and a fairly large dildo. He grinned, “Are you game Alex? I’ll lubricate your brown flower and get it ready with the dildo. He’s called Frank, just a pet name I have for him. Called after my old Latin master at school. You can probably guess why!” Now Alex did laugh at that, the reverend was quite funny, in his own strange way.
Her second surprise was that he didn’t bother with oral, and Alex found herself kneeling over a pile of pillows while the happy reverend worked religiously, preparing her ‘brown flower’ as he called it. He clearly was an expert in such matters and dildoed her arse with some skill, rotating the dildo slowly and pushing it gently, frequently withdrawing it and adding more Vaseline. She really had to giggle when he said, “Don’t worry my dear, your arse is in good hands!” She nodded and gripped the pillows, then felt him back in her arse and it wasn’t bleeding ‘Frank’. He gripped her hips and slowly pushed a little in, carefully checking her expanding bum hole as he pushed more in. She groaned a little as he filled her backside with his firm cock. She heard him groan with satisfaction and say quietly “Up too my damn balls darling, if you excuse the language.” Alex nodded her agreement, he certainly was, she could feel it. She ran a hand down her belly and started to rub and finger her vagina. That’s when the good reverend leaned back and fumbled again in the drawer. Alex turned her head to see what he had produced, it was a monster dildo, bright red in colour. He handed her it and the jar. “That’s Samson’, he’s named after my favourite horse. You’ll enjoy him.”
Alex smiled and took ‘Samson’ and lubricated it, inserting it slowly in. She did love a traditional ‘double penetration’, you know, with two actual men. But this would do nicely. She thrusted slowly at first then speeded up, she was actually enjoying it so much that it wasn’t for a couple of minutes, that she noticed that the reverend wasn’t actually fucking her willing arse. She turned to see him – and she nearly busted her gut with laughter – buried in her arse, reading a book placed on her bum! He slowly turned a page and smiled at her; “It’s that wonderful book by mister H.G.Wells, you know, time travel and all that nonsense, but it’s wonderful fun!” Alex had encountered many men with strange sexual practices, but they couldn’t hold a candle to the bloody reverend! She had to entertain herself – sexually – tonight and sighed, thrusting the dildo with some strength, trying not to laugh out loud as she heard the pages being turned! She now started to giggle as thought of the reverend, buried up to his balls in her arse and all he could do was read a fucking book! She gripped the pillows, with her head down and laughed into them. The reverend patted her quivering cheeks and chuckled “I say Alexandra, you’re a real sport and it’s great to see your enjoying this too!” Now that made Alex bite the pillows to cut of the raucous laughter that was inevitable. Her head suddenly lifted up as she felt the good reverend was coming in her arse and there was a lot of it. She turned her head to see him leaned back, head back, reciting the Lord’s Prayer in Latin!
That was it for her, she collapsed on the bed, laughing so much she cried. His very slippery cock had slipped from her, and he sat on the bed, adjusting his spectacles. “Oh, Alexandra, I’m so glad you liked that. We’ll do it again, soon as I finish the book. But don’t worry, I have twenty thousand leagues under the sea for our next session, do you like Jules Verne?” She now rolled about the bed, laughing like a loony, and only managed to stop when the door opened and Colonel Harrington-Walker slipped in and Alex sat up, the man was gripping with one hand a cock that made ‘Samson’ look like someone’s thumb! Oh, was Alex suddenly interested in the old colonel. She was now so sexually frustrated she would have fucked someone’s grandfather even if he took his teeth out first!
“I do apologise old sport, but my pink card has dropped off to bloody sleep and it would be very ungentlemanly of me to disturb the woman. I hope you don’t mind, but could we swap – I’ll owe you one – I’m sure your pink card won’t mind. She looks like she’s right up for it. I’ll never get the bugger down without a damn woman tonight.” He smiled and slowly jerked the monster. Alex wiped her face and between giggles, said she didn’t mind and lay back, bunching the pillows behind her back and shoulders, even opening her legs in welcome. She didn’t even notice the reverend leaving as the Colonel mounted her. He smelt of sweat, tobacco and whisky, not to mention he was old enough to be her father. But Alex didn’t care, he knew how to fuck a woman like her: hard and fast. And he did. She made a mental note to thank the reverend for ‘Samson’ and the Vaseline, otherwise she could never have coped with the colonel and his pet monster. He gripped the headboard with one hand and her tit with the other and fucked her like a road drill on steroids and she loved it. She groaned and actually screamed a couple of times as he simply didn’t stop pounding her and felt a really big orgasm rolling down her stomach and into her thighs. Gripping his shoulders and cussing like a Liverpool docker, Alex had a huge squirt that lasted seconds and managed to force itself past the huge cock that filled her. Tears ran down her cheeks as her legs shook and she gasped for breath, but the old colonel just carried on fucking her.
“For God sake come! For heaven’s sake come!” She yelled and dug her nails in. The colonel gasped, “I’m not ready my dear. I normally last for a good hour the second time around unless….” Alex then remembered some other woman had already enjoyed his big cock tonight. She managed to say, “Unless bloody what?” and he smiled almost shyly, “I do love French kissing my sweet, but most young women don’t like kissing a man of my age, like that….” He never finished - again – because Alex dragged his head down and slapped her lips on his and stuck her quivering moist tongue in his mouth. They suddenly kissed with real passion that surprised the hell out of both of them. They were basically joined at the mouth with their tongues making love. Alex could not believe at the sheer passion and power that was released by the simple act of a French kiss. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, almost like she wanted to consume his whole body. The sexual passion had now exploded between the two and they rolled about the bed like dogs in heat, they were covered with each other’s sweat and salvia as they simply couldn’t stop kissing and fucking. Alex’s legs were around her shoulders as he pounded her into another huge climax which made her scream, but nothing came out, it couldn’t get past his mouth and especially his tongue, which seemed to have a life of it's own and Alex’s tongue was in love with it.
Finally – and with some real bloody relief – she felt him cum, and she loved it: it came in short little spurts and there were lots of them. They collapsed in each other’s arms and lay panting and gasping for breath between kissing with such passion that Alex knew she had found a special lover. Only Mr. Babette – the well-equipped butler – had ever really touched her like this. [See episode ‘Alexandra: The reluctant French Maid’.]
They couldn’t even pull themselves apart and lay entwinned together, gently kissing, with Alex feeling his cock still buried inside of her and she absolutely loved that feeling. He ran his trembling hands over her heaving breasts and kissed each nipple. Finally, he managed to whisper into Alex’s ear as she pulled him close, her arms around his neck and shoulders. “Alexandra my love, I don’t think we have a choice in this matter, our bodies just got married and I think we had better do the same. I love you and I never thought I would say that to another woman after I buried my darling wife almost thirty years ago. I had no-idea that it could strike again, especially at my age, but it has. Totally, completely and without mercy love has struck me down and I can’t, won’t fight it. So my darling Alexandra, will you marry me?”
Alex was gasping for breath, and she simply took a deep one and nodded. Then giggled, Alex knew she couldn’t marry any living human from any time period but saying yes was a lot easier than saying no: there were fewer arguments! Their mouths came together, and the fire exploded again with unbridled, naked passion. They were so engrossed in their lovemaking that they didn’t even notice the reverend sneak back in and collect his books, dildo’s, and Vaseline. He stopped at the door and walked back, placing the Vaseline down on the bedside cabinet. He headed for the colonel’s room and the sleeping woman, they did swap after all!
5. ‘THE FOX HUNT’ Friday 24th June 1910.
Alex crept down the stairs to an early breakfast and sat alone in the dining room waiting for the under-butler or a maid to appear. George was still sleeping in the reverends bed, and she didn’t have the heart to wake him. She chuckled, at his age and what we did last night, he needs all the rest he can get. She picked up a soft breakfast roll and slowly buttered it. She was joined by Rosaline who actually shouted for service before sitting opposite Alex, who noticed she had quite an accent, probably from Liverpool or around there somewhere. She smiled at Alex, “Bloody starving after that young painter fucked my bleeding brains out. He had me bleeding twice and Old Georgie will moan if I can’t practice today because I’m tired. But hey, that’s life… or sex!” She chuckled at her own humour and Peter the footman appeared to take orders. Rosaline ordered a full English and Alex, her usual: scrambled eggs on toast. When the young man left, Rosaline leaned her big breasts on the table and giggled, “You got the reverend, what book did he read whilst stuck right up your bleeding arse?” She asked and buttered a roll. Alex just smiled and said, “Something by H.G.Wells I think.” Rosaline nodded; “With me, it was a bleeding tale of two titties, get it, two titties!” and bounced her big breasts, then settled down to eat her roll. She certainly wasn’t a lady because she continued the conversation with her mouth full. “Georgie is dead keen to win the championship this year, says he has a good chance with me, so I’ve asked for thirty guinea’s if we win. He’s good for the bleeding money, rich old sod. Inherited a fortune when his wife of six months drowns in the bath, otherwise he wouldn’t have a pot to piss in and he loves to gamble. Lost that amount to Sir Herbert over that snooker game yesterday. Been spending his late wives money ever since her death, even bought himself a colonelcy so it looked like he achieved something for himself. Daft old bugger pays me for sex and then swears blind that I should marry him, but then he says that to all the unmarried girls he fucks with that monster he keeps in his pants. Lady Maude says he wants someone to look after him in his old age and fears dying alone.”
Her monologue was disturbed by Peter brining their breakfasts. Rosaline stuck into hers, still talking as Alex picked at hers. Rosaline’s revelations were hard to listen too. But she had no reason to lie, and Alex resolved to check the ‘colonel’ on her mirror and especially his late wife’s death, in the meantime, she would avoid him, for now. “I hear your old Agatha’s pony now, she’ll look after you because she wants to win the championship and put Maude’s nose out of bleeding joint. Doesn’t have much luck with her girls though, it seems that she train’s them up and they leave to get married. The last three have done that. But she doesn’t badmouth them and seems happy that they have moved on. Odd that I think, but then I’m a suspicious girl around the bleeding rich and powerful. I know my place so I’m alright.”
Alex couldn’t eat much of her scrambled eggs, so rose from the table to leave. Rosaline smiled, “You sticking your name in for the Fox Hunt this morning?” Alex shook her head and murmured, “No, probably not.” Rosaline pulled a face, “Agatha won’t like that, she wants to see you run darling. She’ll tell you to do it. And a pony can’t disobey it’s master.” Alex said nothing and left, heading up stairs. Back in her room she pulled out her mirror and checked in with Jericho, then looked up human records on a certain George Harrington-Walker of this time and place. After a few minutes she ran a hand across her face and closed down her mirror. George Rowling’s hadn’t just stolen his murdered wife’s fortune, he had taken her family name and purchased himself the title of colonel. Then spent a life of gambling and debauchery on the proceeds of his evil murder. His wife’s soul had reported that her new husband had held her down in the bath until she was dead. Then she jumped to a better life, hopefully.
Alex lay back on the bed, a little numb inside. She refused to cry and didn’t. She sat up and forced last night from her mind and decided to get on with the mission: find that bloody time portal and close it. She rose and picked up her bag and threw it over her shoulders. She would check the gardens for that bloody old archway that Abigail mentioned. She left the room and ran down the stairs and through the big doors. She had her slippers on, so walking the gravel paths didn’t bother her. She reached the large stone archway and walls that separated the formal gardens from the woods and checked it. Nothing. So she walked on until she heard her name being called, it was Agatha. She stopped and turned, smiling a little as Agatha caught her up.
“I’m so happy to see you up darling, nice and early and taking a walk for exercise but I want to have a little practice with you, see how you handle my cart.” Agatha placed an arm around her waist almost guided her towards the stables. “I know you have had breakfast, the colonel’s pony told me. So that’s excellent, come on darling.” That’s when Alex noticed that Agatha never said the girls names if they were ponies. The pair walked slowly to the stables with Agatha chatting about the ‘Hunt Race’ and really insisted that Alex put her name forward, if selected, it would be a great chance to run with weights and get a feel of the course. The same route was used in the carriage races until the quarry passed through the old archway. Now that did interest Alex when Agatha mentioned ‘archway’. So she agreed to put her name forward. Now that made Agatha very happy, and she patted Alex’s bum, like she would her favourite horse or dog. “You heard that the colonel is suffering a hangover this morning and won’t join us until this evening. I think Mrs. Cope’s champagne cocktails in bed did the job, though she said he managed to perform to her satisfaction. Apparently, he was so pissed, he ended up in the reverends bed! But that turned out all right because Mrs. Cope took the poor reverend in and…” She pulled Alex close and said softly, “The good reverend actually fucked her properly and didn’t once read a damn book!”
That’s when Alex’s mirror buzzed loudly in her bag and a puzzled Agatha asked what the noise was. Alex said it was a little travel clock and she had set the alarm to remind her of something important she had to do and apologising about being not able to practice, she made her way back to the house, leaving Agatha to walk to the stables alone.
She ran up the stairs and back into her room and answered it; it was Jericho saying that the timeline was changing because of Abigail’s survival and arrival in 1969. Closing the time portal was now a priority and she must keep an eye on her and if necessary, prevent her entering the ‘old archway’ wherever it was. Alex said that she understood and would inform Owen, he was constantly in her company and was best placed for that task. She closed her mirror and now braced herself for facing the wife murderer George.
Alex knocked on George’s door and walked in and stood stock still: George was fucking the under-butler, who was bent over the small sofa, gripping it’s back and groaning loudly. George, sweating and panting turned and actually smiled, “Are you alright my dear, when I’ve finished here, we’ll have a cup of tea and have a nice chat about last night….”he didn’t finish because Alex picked up a nearby vase and threw it with perfect accuracy. It smacked George square on the head and he fell from the shocked under-butler and lay on the floor, clutching his rapidly deflating cock. “It’s all off George Rowling’s. Stick your marriage proposal up your arse, or rather his, if you want. I’ll say nothing to anyone, and I’d advise you to do the same. Understand George Rowling’s?” Somewhat shocked at hearing his true name, he could only nod and Alex strode from the room, a happy woman now and made her way downstairs. She would grab some champagne and watch the ‘Fox Hunt’ start. She wasn’t going to ride and chase a poor bloody fox today.
Alex took a little breath and strolled through the French doors onto the terrace. She stopped and really had to restrain herself from laughing about the absurdity of the scene before her. Everyone was naked apart from some of the ladies who kept their beautiful large hats on! A Footman offered her a glass of champagne from a silver tray, he was still wearing his bowtie. Alex took a glass and smiled, he was a well-built young man in all respects and was probably popular with most of the ladies. She was joined by Lady Agatha who sipped her drink and gossiped about the Vicar who was playing Croque with two young girls. Alex recongnised him because he still had his ‘dog collar’ on. “He has such a wonderful swing.” Lady Agatha said, and Alex smiled broadly, wondering if she meant the way he handled the mallet or the way his large cock moved as he played the ball.
A very well-endowed young lady ran past them chased by two men who were waving their straw boaters in the air and shouting “Tally-ho!” Lady Agatha chuckled, “Oh, the Thompson twins are such fun.” Alex just nodded, she hadn’t really noticed they were identical twins. “On that subject my dear, are you joining us for the hunt this afternoon?” Lady Agatha enquired, and Alex slowly nodded and wondered about how sensible it was to ride a horse – stark naked – over fields chasing a poor bloody fox. Lady Agatha saw her face and laughed, running her hand down Alex’s arm. “Oh, we don’t chase a poor little fox my dear or use horses. All the ladies place their name in a silver punch bowl and whoever is drawn out is the quarry. The men do similar, except there’s three of them and they chase the lady down. It’s all super fun.”
Alex nodded and asked what happens when they catch her. Lady Agatha finished her champagne and smiled; “The one who completes the capture can fuck her. They all can fuck her of course if she likes that. ” She gestured to Gordon Watts who was sitting on a camp chair by the table which was spread with goodies and drinks. A maid stood waiting to serve, she was wearing her maids cap and apron and nothing else. “Gordon is arranging this morning’s hunt, come and place your name in the punch bowl. I understand the men have already drawn for the hunters. It was him, the good reverend, and Lionel Cope. Come on, I know your just dying to join in the fun.” She placed her arm through Alex’s and the pair walked over to the table where the other’s attending this strange English Garden Party were gathering. Gordon produced a slip of paper, and a pencil and Alex wrote her name down and it was dropped into the Punch Bowl.
Lady Agatha shook the bowl, and the good reverend plunged his hand in and pulled out a piece of paper, handing it to Lady Agatha. She glanced at it and held it aloft saying in a loud voice and with a big smile; “Today’s little fox is…..” She grinned at Alex and finished: “Is Alex!” Everyone politely clapped and shouts of ‘well played’ and ‘Jolly good sport’ were heard. Alex swallowed down her champagne and the maid immediately handed her another one. “Come on darling, let’s get you ready. You get a three-minute head start before they come after you. The rules are simple, if they catch you, you must let them have their wicked way with you. This little game is only open to married women of course. For the unmarried darlings, they get chased by three women and that can get be really good fun too.”
Alex followed her back into the drawing room and Lady Agatha opened a drawer on a big ornate cabinet below the huge window and held up a little black belt with a fox tail hanging from it. “Slip this on darling. The plug is for your bum.” She bent Alex over a nearby chair and after smearing the plug with a little lubricate, pushed it into Alex’s bum hole. Lady Agatha really smiled; “I see your no stranger to Greek love my dear.” She told Alex to turn around and Alex watched amazed as Lady Agatha pulled an ice cube from an ice bucket and rubbed it on each of her big nipples. Lady Agatha fixed a heavy clamp [in the shape of stars] to each nipple which made Alex yelp. She tied a bunch of bright coloured ribbons to each and Alex could already feel the weights pulling down on her breasts. “This afternoon’s hunt is a handicap. You know, to even it up a little for the older gentlemen, these will slow you down a little and you’re not allowed to hold your wonderful tits while you’re chased. They must swing free. Do you understand darling?”
Alex nodded and Lady Agatha stood back and smiled; “One last thing my darling.” She rummaged in the drawer and produced a little fox mask and fitted it to Alex. “There, you’re ready for the chase.” She walked Alex back through the French doors where everyone was gathered and stood at the bottom of the terrace’s steps. A little man with big glasses climbed upon a chair and produced a small hunting horn which he blew three times and shouted, “Tally ho!” Lady Agatha gave Alex’s bum a hard slap and yelled, “Go little Foxie, Go!” Alex set off to huge applause and lots of cheering. Just after a few yards she could feel the weights hanging from her nipples as her big tits swung back and forth.
A strange sensation told that she would like the mild pain inflicted by the weights and she stared down at her heaving breasts with the nipples erect and the harsh weights hanging there. She actually smiled as her breasts swung and the weights inflicted the resulting pain on her. She was starting to like it very much and that frightened her a little.
She made the stables block and passed a couple of naked grooms who were holding each other’s erect cocks. They both waved and cheered as she passed by. She heard the little horn being blown again which signalled the men could start the hunt. Alex was now about halfway across the enclosed gardens and could see the large stone wall that surrounded the grand house. Beyond that was the old woods and some miles away: the village. At little speed she headed for the wall and passed several dilapidated huts, then stopped to draw a breath and really wanted to hold up her aching breasts but thought that would be cheating and she was actually liking the pain a little. She turned back to see how far behind her pursuers were and saw the gardener leaned up against a hut, smoking his pipe. He raised a hand and blew smoke everywhere. She walked back and asked where she could hide, he looked at her naked body and just smiled.
“Now that’s not fair darling. After all the whole object of the little chase is to get fucked, isn’t it? And they can’t fuck you if they can’t find you.” He said pulling the pipe from his mouth. Alex nodded, he was certainly right about that! He folded his arms and said quietly, “I’ve known a chase to last nearly an hour if the young lady follows my advice. It depends how much pain those beauties can stand I suppose.” Alex stood hands on hips and smiled, asking what his advice was. The man now smiled broadly, “Ah, you have brains as well as beauty.” He gestured to the hut behind him, and Alex followed him.
There were bundles of canvas lawn covers in the hut and Alex found herself on all fours as the man fucked her in the doggy position with real power and passion. Her big breasts swung wildly under the pounding she was getting, and the pain was adding to her pleasure, and she endured a quick orgasm which made the man chuckle. He fucked her for about fifteen minutes before emptying his load into her. He patted her quivering bum cheeks and said ‘thank you miss’ before pulling out and relighting his pipe. Alex rose from the canvas and watched his cum trickle down her legs. Then they both heard the little hunting horn: her pursuers were close. She smiled and said she had to go. The man nodded and sucked on his pipe saying “Good luck miss, and I hope the one who captures you knows how to fuck a woman like you. Hard and fast.” Alex was back in the saddle and last night forgotten, along with bloody George Rowling’s!
Alex chuckled and left the hut and set off again, but she was feeling tied now and the pain in her breasts were starting to bother her. She found herself on a gravel path which led down to the stream that split the woods. Now panting a little she made for the old stone bridge and looked behind, Gordon was way in front of the others and smiling broadly. She made the bridge but slipped a little on the wet grass and Gordon caught her, grabbing her around the waist and shouting “Capture! Capture!”
They rolled on the Grass and Alex lay on her back panting with Gordon now on top of her. He patted her face and smiled; “My prize please little naughty fox!” He gently pushed open her legs and without another word mounted her as the other two men arrived, panting and wheezing.
“I’m next.” Was all the good reverend managed to gasp out and sat on the bridge and watched. He was joined by Lionel Cope who waved his straw boater and shouted; “Go to it Gordon old man!” Gordon grunted and started to fuck Alex as she lay back watching him, highly aroused by the crazy chase and capture. Her aching breasts added to it all, especially with the butt plug embedded in her arse, and of course, the good fucking she had received at the hands of the anonymous gardener. She turned and saw the Reverend jerking his erection and smiled; “If it’s urgent vicar I can help.” And inserted a couple of fingers into her mouth. The reverend leapt from the wall shouting; “Oh my what a bloody good sport!” The crowd from the party now encircled the hunters and hunted, cheering and applauding.
The little man with the big glasses and small horn arrived, panting and sweating. He blew the horn between taking deep breaths and watched Gordon fucking Alex hard in the damp grass. The vicar was now leaned over her Alex’s head, and she was sucking his cock and jerking it with some skill. Lady Agatha arrived walking with a parasol up. She smiled broadly and said to the two ladies who accompanied her “I told you Alex would be a real sport. I watched through my racing binoculars, and she never cheated once. I think I’ll enter her as my pony in the carriage race. She’ll do well harnessed up to my little carriage with me giving her cheeky bum a slap or two with my whip.”
The younger woman nodded, “If you don’t mind Agatha, I’ll borrow your dear little pony for the cock bobbing contest. I think she could suck a golf ball out of a champagne class without touching the sides.” The three women laughed, then saw that Gordon had finished and was standing, bent over panting, as the good reverend mounted the naughty little fox. Poor Mr. Cope had jerked too much and suffered a premature ejaculation; he was inconsolable! The three ladies laughed and went back to watching the vicar perform, already looking forward to tomorrow’s games: especially the carriage race. Agatha’s two friends knew that she would have her ‘pony’ groomed and ready to race; even if the young woman didn’t want to play. Agatha had her own way of persuading girls to do as she commanded.
Agatha had too much invested – time and money – to take no from girls she selected as pony’s. She would train Alex up – like she had done with several excellent pony’s – and take her to the big races in America, win a couple of the ‘majors’ and then auction her off for a large sum of money. Agatha took pride in her reputation as one of the finest trainers of pony-girls and club members always paid well for her pony’s and if this one trained up well, she could produce the best profit yet.
6. ‘THE BREAST & BUCKET’ RACES AND ALEX TRAINS TO BE AGATHA’S PONY.
Alex lay in the bath, splashing water about and giggled, her weekend with the naked Edwardians had turned out better than she thought. From the sex point of view it had been good, but not so good from the emotional side. The bloody colonel had upset her a little, but was now forgotten after fucking the colonel, the gardener, Gordon, and the reverend. Oh, she laughed thinking about the bloody reverend! And this was just the start of the weekend.
She rose, dried and smiled, she certainly didn’t have to worry about what bloody dress to wear! Alex walked to the big window of her bedroom which overlooked the rear gardens and stared out. Sir Herbert was practicing with his pony, who for this season was Abagail and she was trotting around the rear estate road, pulling the little carriage at speed with Sir Herbert waving his whip and shouting. “Christ! They really do take this ‘pony-girl’ stuff quite seriously.” She muttered and picked up a card that detailed the events for this day. The ‘Fox Hunt’ was over, and the next communal event would be held in the ballroom, intriguingly called ‘The breast and bucket’ races. The night was marked ‘Private’ except for those entered in the carriage races, they could use the floodlit stable yard to train. Alex chuckled “They sure bloody do take all this seriously!”
Helena – Lady Maude’s pony – appeared in the doorway and announced “Alex, Lady Agatha has taken the liberty and entered you in this afternoon’s races and hopes you don’t mind. She also says that you should appear at the stables an hour before dinner. She’s wants to give you a little training session. All the pony’s will be there, so it should be fun!” Alex nodded and said, ‘thank you’.
Nearly
everyone was in the ballroom and Alex sipped some champagne, standing by the
grand fireplace with Owen. “This should be fun, the ponies have to navigate a
sort of obstacle course carrying buckets and their masters are awarded points
which go towards the championship. Apparently, this season’s championship is
really between Lady Agatha, lady Maude and Sir Herbert. They are leading and
clear of the other two teams.” Owen said softly and accepted a refill of his
glass from the young naked maid who smiled at him.
Lady Agatha called for everyone’s attention and announced the commencement of the race. She peered at her clipboard and said that Sir Herbert’s pony was up first. Abigail presented herself by the doorway with Mr. Cope carrying a little flag and a stopwatch. Lady Maude and Lady Alice appeared with a short pole that had straps hanging from it, and a footman carrying two buckets. Abigail placed her hands on her head when told and Lady Maude held the pole straight over Abigail’s big breasts while Lady Alice fixed the straps to her tits, quite firmly, so that the pole was held up entirely by the pony’s breasts. The footman filled the buckets from another big pail to about halfway and Lady Alice measured the waters depth in each. Satisfied, she announced they were correct. Mr. Cope then stated the stopwatch would be started when the pony took her first steps after the buckets were fixed.
Sir Herbert stood behind his pony with his carriage whip firmly grasped; he was there to encourage her!
Alex and Owen exchanged an amused glance and sipped their champagne, watching carefully as the two ladies lifted the buckets and placed them on the metal hooks at the end of the pole. They held them in place as Mr. Cole shouted, “Pony ready!” and Abigail straightened her back and took a deep breath. Mr. Cole shouted, “Get set!” and waved his flag, indicating for the two ladies to release the buckets and step away. Abigail grunted a little as she now felt the full weight of the half-filled buckets on her breasts. Her hands remained on her head. Mr. Cope held the flag aloft and dropped it, starting his watch as Abigail started to walk very quickly, the buckets swinging a little as she made her way to the first obstacle. Sir Herbert followed close behind, whip at the ready. It was a very low coffee table and Abigail stepped over it slowly, her teeth gripping her mouthpiece. She must have done it too slowly for her master’s liking and her gave her right buttock a taste of the whip. Everyone gave a little cheer and shouted “One!” Several of the watching men already had erections as Abigail made for obstacle number two with Sir Herbert close behind. The weight of the buckets now really pulling down on her big pert tits and her nipples were standing up. It wasn’t cold in the ballroom. She stopped and squatted down a little, so that the coulourful Chinese vase could pass carefully between her legs. That didn’t please her master, he thought she performed too slowly and gave her left buttock a slap with the whip. Everyone cheered again and shouted; “Two!”
The next ‘fence’ for the pony to ‘jump’ was a gardeners tray containing several large and very prickly cacti placed in a line in the tray that was long and about two foot wide. Abigail would have to open her legs to pass over it and she did, her mouthpiece cut off her yelps of pain as her naked vagina passed over it, brushing the cacti. Sir Herbert was satisfied with her efforts and didn’t remind her to try harder with his ever-ready whip. Walking a little slower now, she confronted obstacle number four and received a slap of the whip on her right buttock. Her master wanted the pony to speed up, after all, time was important, and seconds counted. Everyone cheered and yelled “Three!”
‘Fence’ four was a favourite with the Hendon House gang, affectionately called the ‘Dildo Challenge’ it was a large red dildo – well lubricated – placed on another coffee table. The pony would have to squat over it and insert into her vagina without using her hands! Abigail slowly lowered herself down and with some skill managed to get the head in at the first attempt, then carefully pushed down until she could grip it and lift. Everyone cheered “Four!” as Sir Herbert slapped her left buttock really hard with the whip to get her moving quickly to the final obstacle carrying the dildo.
The final ‘fence’ tested the pony’s vaginal muscles and agility. It was two small wooden ladders laid about a foot apart, the pony had to step between each rung on each ladder which meant opening her legs, so she had to grip the dildo and hold it using just her fanny. It was the hardest fence and Abigail stepped tenuously between the rungs, clearly in some pain from griping the damn thing. Her breasts now ached from the weight of the buckets, but she cleared the ladders without losing the dildo and walked slowly over the line. Everyone cheered shouting “Well Done!” and “Good little pony!” Sir Herbert took the bows as Lady Maude and Lady Alice removed the buckets and dildo from a very relieved looking Abigail. Mr. Cope had stopped his watch and shouted, “Six minutes and forty seconds!” The colonel, smoking a big cigar, chalked the time up on the blackboard. Then Mr. Cope announced the next pony to perform: it was Lady Agatha’s.
Owen chuckled; “showtime!” and Alex walked to the doorway [the start] and Lady Maude and lady Alice repeated the fitting procedures [including the mouthpiece] with lady Agatha standing behind her pony, whip in hand. She whispered to Alex, “Just try your best darling and I’ll be happy.” She tapped Alex’s arse with her whip. When the buckets were fitted, Alex realised just how painful it was. She now had some serious respect for Abigail and the other girls…sorry, ponies. But her big strong breasts took the weight well and stepped quickly away, when Mr. Cope dropped his little flag. Lady Agatha followed closely, swishing her whip.
Alex took the coffee table at speed and completed the fence easily, but the buckets swung a little and really pulled her breasts down and increased the pain. She approached the beautiful vase and squatted, passing over it carefully and headed for obstacle number three: the dreaded fanny scratching cacti and opened her legs passing over the spikey plants. The mouthpiece helped as she gritted her teeth and felt the nasty spikes scrapping against her big vaginal lips. She yelped as the whip slapped her left buttock and everyone cheered, shouting “One!”
She squatted over the dildo and lowered herself down, the weight of the buckets was now really telling on her breasts, and she missed the first attempt but succeeded on the second. That brought her master’s whip down on her right buttock and she pushed down firmly and gripped the dildo, lifting it carefully from the table. Everyone cheered “Two!” She made for the ladders and realised her well used cunt could prove a real drawback in this race and struggled to hold the dildo as she tackled the ladders.
Alex knew she had to cross the ladders quite slowly or lose the dildo and be disqualified, winning Lady Agatha no points. But the whip came down on her left buttock as she waddled to the finishing line. The cheer of “Three!” echoed around the grand ballroom. She just crossed the line when the dildo fell, her fanny muscles couldn’t hold it any longer. But it didn’t matter: she had finished. Mr. Cope had stopped his watch and shouted, “Five minutes and twenty-three seconds!” Everyone cheered and clapped. Lady Agatha was really pleased and gave Alex a little kiss on the cheeks as the buckets were removed, “Excellent time for your first run my darling. Well done!” and then caressed her bum. Back at the fireplace, Owen handed her a class of champagne and nodded. “How are your big beauties?”
Alex grimaced, “Bloody aching and remind me to have my bloody fanny tightened!” The pair laughed together until the next pony’s set off. They both achieved times that were recorded over six minutes, and everyone watched in anticipation of Lady Maude’s pony. Helena set off at speed, but struggled a bit with the damn dildo, finally managing to lift it on her three attempt and received her master’s whip twice at that obstacle. She tackled the ladders slowly and received the whip again with everyone shouting “Three!” Helena crossed the line and Mr. Cope checked his watch and shouted “Five minutes and twenty-nine seconds!
Lady Agatha took the applause and kissed Alex again. She was now just one point behind Lady Maude and if she won the carriage race with Maude finishing lower than second [say, third, fourth or fifth] the championship would be hers and it was all thanks to her ‘new’ pony! Now she had to train Alex quickly and take a real chance with her in the race. She had no other options: Alex had to race for her, she certainly wouldn’t take no for an answer now!
When the event was completed, the crowd broke up into little groups, with the pony’s being taken to the stables for training. Agatha actually gripped Alex’s arm and walked with her, ensuring she attended the training session. Alex wasn’t surprised to see the bustle of activity inside, these people clearly did take their ‘sport’ seriously. Agatha walked her to the rear, past Sir Herbert who was watching Abigail cleaning down his carriage, drinking from a hipflask and smoking a cigar. “Well done, Agatha, with that big breasted little beauty, you could upset Maude’s planned victory party!” Agatha just smiled and introduced Alex to her carriage. It was an exact miniature of a carriage that was used in the popular carriage races of the day. Alex believed it a cost a lot of money and now realised just how seriously the sport of ‘pony-girls’ was taken and there were more of this ‘clubs’ scattered around Europe and the USA. She wondered about the rich patrons behind the sport and what their true motives were. But her attention was drawn to Agatha. She was describing how the Pony pulled the carriage at speed and how she was controlled by her ‘Riding Master’. That would be Agatha of course. “I think you need to experience pulling the cart darling, so, I’ll harness you up and we’ll take a little trot around the yard and maybe, I’ll run you down to the old cottages while there is light.” From her big bag she produced a pair of delicate ‘racing shoes’ and gripped Alex’s left leg and removed her slipper, fitting the shoe., then pushed on the other one. “They are your size my dear and you’ll find them very comfortable.” Alex did and walked about the stables and was impressed.
Now she harnessed up to the cart and found out why the girls needed big firm breasts. The reins were fitted to them, and they were used to tell the pony when to turn left or right or stop. The whip was used to start and encourage the pony to run faster and increase her effort. Alex was fitted with a mouthpiece and pony ears, Alex knelt on the floor and Lady Agatha brushed her hair gently speaking softly “Now my little pony, you will look your best and will do your best to win for you mistress. If you please me, I will reward you, but if you misbehave or don’t try, I’ll be forced to punish you. Do you understand?” Alex nodded, lady Agatha had been quite insistent that when Alex is playing her pony, she doesn’t speak, just nod her head. Lady Agatha smiled and patted Alex’s head, “There’s a good girl, you are learning to obey already.”
All Alex was wearing was her ‘running shoes’ for the moment, Agatha now set about ‘dressing’ her pony for the carriage race. “The race is for novices, so I won’t expect too much. Just try your best and I’ll be happy. Now stand.” Alex stood and Agatha slowly fixed a thick leather collar about her neck which had steel rings back and front, then she produced two leather reins and Alex noticed that the ends looked strange and unusual: they were leather and steel circles that had hinges, so they be locked and opened. Agatha chuckled, “You will get use to these darling. These ends are for those magnificent breasts of yours.” She slipped one over Alex’s left breast, pushing it right down against her skin and slapped the clasp together, fitting it tightly so that it moved very little. She checked it twice and was satisfied that it would hold, whilst Alex felt the gentle pain of having her big tit clamped. Agatha repeated the process with her right breast and then walked to the carriage and pulled hard on the reins causing Alex to jump and yelp a little with the sudden pain. Agatha pulled hard on the left rein and Alex moved to the left which made Agatha happy. She repeated with the right strap of the reins and was satisfied that Alex obeyed her commands well. They walked around the barn and Alex saw the other four teams working on their ‘pony’s’ and carriages. It appears that the racing was taken quite seriously and even bets were laid on the outcomes. Agatha pulled Alex along until she stopped at the far end by a small little carriage which could carry one person. Alex realised they looked like ‘soap-box’ carts that children made and played with. Except these were custom made and probably cost more than their full-size counterparts.
Agatha’s carriage was gleaming and even the vivid red leather seat was shining. She ran a hand over it and smiled at Alex. “Now will I dress you and walk you into the cart and harness you up. You will obey my commands instantly and, obviously without questions. I will use this freely if you show you’re not making a good effort.” Alex stared at the thin stiff whip she held up and knew she bloody well would use it!
“Here, put these on.” Agatha handed Alex a pair of soft gloves which Alex pulled on and realised they had no fingers. “You will grip the yoke better with them. The wood is quite shiny and your hands, when they start sweating, could lose grip.” Alex just nodded as Agatha gently pushed her backwards between the arms and told her to grip them, again she did as ordered, and Agatha patted her arse cheeks. Then with one hand pulled open a cheek and applied Vaseline to Alex’s anus. She then – from her bag – produced a wonderful tail of real horsehair which stood erect. Alex’s eyes widened as she felt the butt plug being pushed in, which the tail was attached too. When fully inserted, the tail stood proud and Agatha pulled the two straps attached to the base of the tail, around Alex’s waist and hooked them together, adjusting them slightly so they were tight. “Helps the tail stay in your bum. I don’t want you disqualified for finishing without a tail!”
From her big bag, Agatha removed a silver head band adorned with a huge black ostrich feather and affixed it to Alex’s head, with the magnificent feather at the rear, standing proud. She folded her arms and looked Alex up and down. “You really do look the part darling, now let’s go for a little run and see how you do.” Agatha climbed aboard her carriage and settled in, “Do remember the commands pony?” Alex nodded, gripping the shafts and tried not to chuckle at this situation. Agatha shouted: “Ready!” And straightened up and flexed her fingers, talking a proper hold on the shafts. “Walk!” Agatha shouted and Alex yelped as the whip came down on her left buttock. She walked slowly forward and felt her left breast being tugged and so she turned left and past Sir Herbert who had Abigail harnessed up and ready to run. He waved and shouted ‘Good luck!” as Agatha trundled past, heading for the big doors and out into the yard. Another tug on her tits told Alex to go right again and she headed for the large archway. “Run!” Agatha shouted and the whip struck Alex’s right buttock and she started to run and realised immediately that this ‘sport’ wasn’t actually easy. With her big breasts bouncing she ran down the gravel road and headed for the ancient stone bridge shaped like an arch. The incline was actually quite steep, and Alex struggled a little as she pulled the cart up. The whip landed on her right buttock and was now a painful sting. “Pull Pony! Try harder and keep the speed up!” Agatha shouted and the pair headed down the East Road and towards the old cottages. She passed them, with Agatha checking her fob watch and thought - just for a second – that she could see a low flickering light in one.
Agatha was running her ‘new’ pony over the course that would be used for the championship deciding race tomorrow and so far, her pony was doing really well considering she was a ‘novice’. Alex felt the tug on her right breast and turned right, she was heading back to the house [and happy about that] when Agatha shouted “Now I want to see you run flat out! So GO pony! GO!” the whip came down on both her cheeks and Alex speeded up as best she could, her arse was now really feeling the pain inflicted by her ‘master’s’ whip. Agatha shouted, “Faster pony!” and the whip came down again as the bridge appeared, and Alex ran up the slope, panting and cussing under the whip. Agatha kept her at speed until the archway appeared and she allowed Alex to slow as she trotted into the yard. Both her aching breasts were pulled, so she stopped, bent over and panting. She didn’t know what was throbbing in pain more: her tits or her arse!
Agatha patted her sore bum and kissed her face; “Well done pony, that was an excellent training session, come on, you’ve earnt a glass of champagne.” The colonel lowered his watch and spoke to Lady Maude with some concern in his voice, “She did it in nine minutes and fourteen seconds and she’s a novice!” Lady Maude nodded “Well, novice or not, we need to slow her down. Call the others together. I think it’s only fair that Agatha’s new Pony is a little handicapped: to make it fair on the other ponies.” They both laughed.
7. JOHN MARTIN JACKSON AND THE UNPLANNED ORGY.
Jericho lowered his night vision binoculars and slipped down from the wall and rubbed his chin as Divij pushed open the door of their car. “Did you see the guard patrol?” Divij asked as Jericho eased in and shook his head, “Do you know Divij, that if I didn’t know I was stone cold sober and not hallucinating, I would have sworn that I just saw our Alexandra, dressed up as some kind of horse, complete with bushy tail, pulling a little cart carrying a naked women waving a whip.” Divij just stared at him and sighed, “I said that bloody shepherds pie looked dodgy, you should have stuck with just the vegetables. You can’t go wrong with vegetables.” Jericho nodded and fumbled for his hipflask. “I think this bloody mission could drive me to drink.” He muttered and Divij stared as he took a huge swig. ‘Drive you to drink? More likely this team of yours will drive me to bloody drink!’ Divij thought.
He started the car and moved off, the pair were seeking a way into the grounds and past the security, but it appears that Lady Agatha took her privacy very seriously. “I best call Alex and see what’s happening.” Jericho said and pulled out his mirror. That’s when Lady Agatha’s car – driven by Carson – passed them with an elegant looking young gentleman sitting in the back, followed by a smaller car containing two rough looking men who looked like their home address was the local prison. Jericho watched them pass and stop at the ornate gates of Hendon House. After just a minute or the so, the gates were opened, and they passed through. Jericho lowered his mirror; “John Martin Jackson, a bloody missing soul! He should have been collected in 2098 but missed his departure date, he was a very rich and powerful man in his ordained time period. What the fuck is he doing here and more importantly, why is he here?” Divij shook his head, he didn’t bleeding know.
Agatha
practically ordered Alex to have an early night and rest for the big race tomorrow
and so Alex found herself alone in her room reading ‘Moby Dick’. She tossed the
book down and yawned, then looked at the big bookcase and wandered over,
checking to see if their was a title that may be of interest. Nothing caught
her eyes until she saw a paperback sandwiched between the final two books – all
the volumes in the bookcase had hard covers – and so she pulled it out and
smiled, “A bloody ‘Mills & Boon’ romantic paperback!” she exclaimed and
turned to the first page and read the copyright details: it was from 1987.
She
flicked through the book and a piece of paper fell out, no bigger that a
postcard. Alex picked it up and found it was blank until she turned it over: “JMJ.
7 o’clock. The lodge. 6/8/2023.”
Alex
lowered the card and headed straight for her handbag and pulled out her mirror,
calling Jericho who was not surprised by the initials. “So, he’s here now?” she
asked, and Jericho told her to -
discretely – try and finds out what the time travelling millionaire was doing
there.
Alex headed down the grand staircase and could hear voices from the drawing room and casually stuck her head around the door. She grimaced, the bloody ‘please marry me!’ colonel was sitting talking to a young man who was still dressed and that made Alex really uncomfortable about being nude! The colonel looked and didn’t smile, “Can I help you, Alexandra?” Alex shook her head, “Just looking for that young painter, Francis, have you seen him?” The colonel shook his head and then saw the young man properly. He was fucking gorgeous! With incredibly blue eyes and thick blond hair, he looked like a Scandinavian Adonis. He was well over six foot and had big, well-manicured hands that clutched a walking cane which was topped with a horse’s head. He smiled at Alex and gestured her in, “So you are Agatha’s new pony. She has very high hopes for you, please come in.”
Alex felt her face go a little red and she politely refused, saying that she was still naked. But the colonel grunted, “Don’t be daft Alexandra, we’re all bloody stark naked!” Alex with a shy little half smile stepped in and it was clear that the young man liked what he was viewing: really liked it. He turned to the colonel, “You say she had never even run before and still managed to complete the championship course in just over nine minutes?” The colonel nodded. The young man turned to Alex and smiled again, “You have the build and course times to try your hand at National Carriage Racing. Two of my ponies have won the Grand National Race in the last five years. With proper training you could easily have a shot at it. I think my dear Agatha has been hiding a little pearl from me.”
Alex didn’t smile, “I race tomorrow because I promised I would, but then, that’s it. So, I’ll say goodnight Mr……” The young man stood and he towered above her. “Jackson, John Martin, at your service.” He took her hand and kissed it. “Now that’s a pity Alexandra, that I will only see you race once, but such is life.” He smiled and suggested they have a drink, and the colonel rang the servants bell. Alex, still a little shy, sat by the fireplace with her legs crossed and her arms covering her breasts – well as best they could – Peter, the footman appeared, and the colonel ordered a bottle of brandy and three glasses. Mr. Jackson said quietly to him, “Two glasses George.” And the colonel took the hint and quickly disappeared.
When Peter returned with the drinks, John poured and handed one to Alex who sipped it with real relish: she needed it. And he stood and pulled off his jacket, “I best obey the rules of house Hendon whilst in residence.” And promptly removed his clothes!
Alex
found herself watching him, not only was he fucking handsome, but he had the
body of an athlete and when his long johns came off, she almost choked on her brandy.
On the scale of big cocks, his would definitely rate ten out of ten! It hung just
above his knees and the man had strong long legs. He raised his glass; “To l’Amore!”
and Alex raised her glass hand and couldn’t take her eyes of his manhood. “Now
Alexandra, please tell me about yourself.” He was standing in front of her, and
she was sitting. Her eyes and mouth in direct line with that incredible cock,
in fact it was just a foot away from her face: twitching a little.
She looked up and smiled, he looked down and smiled. There was silence between the two and finally Alex placed the brandy glass down and took hold of his half-erected cock and pushed it into her mouth. “Ah, I see you’re a woman of few words Alexandra, I really do like that.” He chuckled and watched her working his cock with her superb mouth, lips and tongue, then ran a hand over her hair. “Good little pony.” He whispered, adding, “My little pony now.”
Alex was bitterly disappointed in the ensuring sex: his body had promised so much, especially his big cock. But John Martin Jackson was a selfish lover. After enjoying his blowjob, he pushed Alex onto the sofa and pulled open her legs and didn’t bother with any kind of foreplay, not even attempting to lubricate her with oral sex. He simply mounted her and fucked her as he pleased. Alex groaned, but not from pleasure but a little pain as his cock was pushed into her without proper lubrication. He held her shoulders down and thrusted hard for about ten minutes, only speaking to tell her, to keep still and keep her ‘damn legs up’. Alex was already regretting this encounter, and quietly [and politely] asked him to stop, so she could lubricate her fanny, his thrusts was starting to hurt and not in a good way. He just chuckled, “Don’t be silly pony, just lay still, that’s a good little pony.” And carried on fucking her. Finally, she tried to push him away, but he held her arms and simply carried on. She told him to stop several times, but he wasn’t listening and suddenly John Martin Jackson groaned loudly and shot his load into her. He stayed inside for a minute or two and then pulled his cock out and to Alex’s disgust, patted her head like she was a pet dog!
“Well done pony, I enjoyed that, but next time keep quiet when I’m fucking you, that’s a good little pony.” He cleaned his cock on his hankie and started to dress as Alex lay on the sofa and just stared at him, his cum running from her and forming a little puddle on the couch. He gestured to it, “It’s all good stuff pony, it wouldn’t be surprising if I had bred you!”
He picked up his brandy glass and finished it. “Get off to your room now and sleep well, I want to watch you run tomorrow and you should rest, so that you perform well for Agatha.” Now dressed, he opened the door and chuckled, “Off you go! Get up to bed. Well done little pony.” Alex rose from the sofa and walked slowly past the arrogant, selfish man and headed up the stairs. She was not very happy and worse, totally sexually unsatisfied. She had changed her opinion of the man and it wasn’t for the better. “You won’t enjoy me again you prick.” She muttered to herself and made for her room. She stopped on the upper hallway and remembered her ‘sexual mantra’. “If you have a bad experience, forget about it and jump straight back on the bloody horse!” Now smiling, she headed to Owen’s room.
Alex pushed through the door saying she needed his talents quite urgently and stopped, and just had to smile: broadly. Abigail was face down on the big bed, gripping some pillows as Owen lay on her, propped up on his elbows, thrusting hard. He turned and grinned, “I take it you need my services! What happened?” Abigail turned her head and smiled, “Oh my! Are we going to have one of those trio’s?” Alex sighed, walking to the bed, “It’s a threesome darling, and yes, we bloody well are!”
Owen gently turned Abigail over and she sat on him, legs open and Alex could see that Owen was thoroughly enjoying her tight bum. Alex climbed on and was soon kneeling between those open legs, working her magic on Abigail’s very moist, willing and open vagina. Her tongue had an almost immediate effect on the girl and within minutes she spurted, moaning loudly and kicking her legs. Owen gripped her big tits and chuckled, “Fucking hell! Have you a magic bloody tongue Alex?” Before she could answer, the normally quiet and reserved girl shouted, “Yes, she fucking has!” They changed position to the ‘doggy’ and Alex slid under Abigail and continued to work her vagina with fingers and tongue, whilst Abigail, now fully sexually aroused, pulled open Alex’s legs and worked her fanny with her tongue and fingers, stopping only to ask Alex’s who’s cum was inside her!
Alex laughed and said, “A total prick and he won’t be filling it again!” Both girls laughed and went back to enjoying each other’s cunts. Owen couldn’t hold it any longer and came inside Abigail’s back passage with some joy. He pulled from her and Alex quickly dragged herself down the bed a little bit more and cleaned up Owen’s cum as it trickled from Abigail’s gaping bum hole. That sight made Abigail shake and tremble, she was having another orgasm!
Owen sat back, jerking his now flaccid cock, watching the girls. Alex was teaching Abigail how to ‘scissor’ and the girl was loving it. She told Alex that she was better than any of the girls she had sex with at her finishing school. Alex enjoyed the compliment and now they entwined, with their mouths enjoying each other. Owen soon had another erection watching the girls kissing quite passionately and caressing each other’s big tits. “I think I’ve died again and now really am in heaven.” He muttered, as the girls were furiously fingering each other, and it was Alex’s turn to have an orgasm and she moaned with relief. Abigail called to Owen, “Fucking poke her arse in the same position you fucked me, and I can have her cunt!” Both Alex and Owen stared at each other, young Abigail had certainly emerged from her sexual shell. But they did as requested by their ‘guest’.
Facing away, Alex squatted down on Owen and guided his cock into her arse, no sooner he was in, then Abigail, rubbing her own crotch furiously, was on Alex. She attacked her open, wet vagina enthusiastically with mouth, tongue and fingers. Well, it was her whole hand and part of her wrist actually: she was bloody fisting Alex with some hidden strength. Surprised and pleased, Alex responded by squirting suddenly, which made her moan and shake. Abigail, grinning at her achievement, now licked Alex clean and started over again, clenching her hand into a fist and pumping hard. Alex now groaned loudly and responded by having a follow up orgasm very quickly. Owen was actually chuckling, “Christ sakes Alex! You’ve created a sexual monster!” Alex, between moaning and cussing could only agree. “Come in her fucking arse! I want to taste her and you!” Abigail demanded and Owen chuckled again: Oh yes, little Abigail had definitely ‘cum of age’ under Alex’s experienced tutorage!
The door opened and Lady Agatha walked in and folded her arms. “I went to check my pony, to make sure she was resting and find an orgy going on. I knew she would be in here, but I didn’t expect to find you here Abigail. I am disappointed in you and what would Sir Herbert say? If he knew about this, you would be over the little wooden horse being seriously paddled.” Abigail stopped licking and fisting Alex’s vagina and smiled a little, “Oh aunty! We’re only have some fun to relax us. We’ll sleep better after fucking like this.”
Lady Agatha just shook her head, “Oh, the joys of youth. I can’t be angry, I used to do the same when I was young and being trained to race by your grandfather. Your mother – God rest her soul – was just like you.” Agatha sat on the bed, “Your grandfather Reginald was a top trainer and both of us were in his stable. Even when were very naughty, he let us enjoy some sex. Normally it was with him and Uncle Cuthbert.” Alex wiped her face and what Agatha said took a few seconds to sink in. Bloody BDSM and incest! Agatha sighed and crawled up the bed, “Well, I need relaxation too before a big race. Now you kiss your new friends, and I will deal with my naughty pony.” All Owen could say was “Fucking hell!”
He was back fucking Abigail in the missionary position while Agatha and Alex rolled about the bed, having some pretty hard lesbian sex. Alex fisted Agatha so hard that the gentile lady had a massive orgasm after about ten minutes and called Alex everything from a pig to a dog and the language she used would have made a Turkish brothel keeper blush. Now a foursome, the orgy lasted nearly another hour with Lady Agatha showing the younger participants her skill, knowledge and vast [obviously] experience. At one point she had them gathered in the bathroom for a ‘Golden Shower’ session, then using Alex’s slippers, paddled a prostrate Owen over the big armchair. He admitted later to Alex that [quote] he ‘fucking loved it!’ Alex then beat Agatha’s backside until it glowed red while Owen ate her out, getting rewarded when she had another monster orgasm. Abigail whispered to Alex that it was like a running tap. They were entwinned like a ball of breeding snakes, fucking, fisting, licking, caressing and slapping [hard] until they lay exhausted, talking quietly together with Alex cradling the sleeping Abigail in her arms.
Agatha rose from the bed, covered in sweat, cum and piss and ordered the girls to bed and neither argued. When they had slipped away, both walking a little awkwardly, Agatha took hold of Owen’s flaccid cock and asked quietly, “Young man, have you ever had a prostrate massage?” Owen groaned and turned into the ‘doggy’ position as the smiling Agatha set about his bum hole with her long nibble fingers, while her hand tugged his erecting penis. Oh yes, she certainly showed young Owen the joys of fucking a much older woman. Meanwhile, Alex and Abigail curled up together in Alex’s bed and slept soundly, waking early to have some more hard lesbian sex in both the bed and the bath. Alex really had to laugh and lay giggling as Abigail rung the servant’s bell and calmly told the naked maid to bring the big red dildo from the games room….and some fresh water, with a pot of tea! The young maid simply nodded and did as she was instructed to without comment, or even looking shocked or surprised.
That made the girls late for breakfast. Mainly because the maid joined in! A very tired looking Owen joined them and ordered a full English breakfast: he needed to recover his strength and Alex asked what happened after they [her and Abigail] left. Owen ate some toast and sipped his tea. The young man smiled slowly and said quietly, as other guests were arriving [they were also late, and everyone knew why!] “I discovered a whole new world of sexual adventure with that woman. She made me do things that would get us both several years in prison I think.” He lowered his toast, “If you think the pissing session was kinky, she produced a bloody bucket and some tube from God knows where and gave me a milk enema! And ladies, that was just the bloody start. She had me shitting in the bucket and then rimmed me…” His voice faded away and he stared ahead, with what would be called later, ‘the thousand-yard stare’. Then started to laugh quietly, “She was – apart from you [indicating Alex] the most incredible sex partner I have ever had. Fucking unbelievable!” He sipped his tea and said nothing more, leaving the girls giggling a little.
Alex had discovered with some pillow talk with young Abigail, that Lady Agatha had indeed been a pony herself and had won the grueling National Hunt Carriage Race in America for her grandfather. Abigail admitted that was some achievement and the most famous pony, a mare called ‘Aphrodite’ remained the only pony to win twice. Subsequently her ‘master’ had used her for breeding and twenty-three years later, she set another unique record for the race, by her daughter ‘Amber’ winning the race. Alex now realised just how deep and old the sport was and why it was taken so seriously by the ‘professionals’ who indulged in it. Abigail told her that it was practiced by the Romans and of course – sadly – the pony’s were all slave-girls who had no choice in the matter. Apparently, unlike them.
She confided in Alex that her aunty believed she could train her [Alex] for the race and could actually win it. A lifetime’s ambition. Alex now felt a little guilty that she would tell Agatha that todays race would be her last. But of course, Owen and she would leave as soon as the mission was over and so it was impossible to stay anyway. Rosaline joined them and jerked a thumb towards the head of the table where John Martin Jackson sat, smiling to himself and reading the morning papers. “He is fucking happy apparently. The old colonel told me last night when he was fucking me, that Mr. Jackson believes he has found a lively candidate for the Grand National Carriage Race. He’s going to make a decision today – after the Championship Race – about shipping her to his ranch in America. Fucking lucky bitch. Can you imagine the amount of money he’ll throw at her and if she fucking wins, she’s made for life.”
Abigail asked if she had any idea who the pony was, that Mr. Jackson had in mind. Rosaline shook her head, “He plays his cards close to his chest, does that one. But I suspect Lady Agatha knows, they are as close as a two headed snake. Maybe lady Maude knows, but again, she won’t say anything, not even if you pulled her fingernails out. “ She chuckled and picked up some toast. Owen said quietly, “Who do you think it is?”
Rosaline nibbled her piece of dry toast and didn’t smile; “Her.” She said simply and pointed the half-eaten toast at Alex, adding, “If you win today, your off to America I strongly suspect, and he’ll make Agatha happy with a large commission.” Alex and Owen exchanged a glance but said nothing to the other two girls about their thoughts of Rosaline’s revelation. Mr. Jackson was going to be very disappointed – like Lady Agatha – and that made Alex smile and she ate her scrambled eggs with relish.
Sir Herbert appeared and ordered his pony to follow him, his apparent erection was probably the reason and Abigail sighed and whispered, “The dirty old sod likes to have a good breakfast and then fuck his pony, says it relaxes him for the big races.” She rose from the table and walked to her ‘master’ who placed a hand on her arse, and they walked to the grand staircase. Alex watched them go and turned to Rosaline, “Why doesn’t she just say no?” Rosaline chuckled, “Don’t be daft! If she doesn’t obey her master, then none of the other masters will use her next season and that will lose her loads of money. Our girl has expensive tastes and a London apartment. The allowance she gets from aunty Agatha won’t even cover the bloody rent. We all need money darling, and you don’t have to work in a fucking sweatshop to get it or marry some smelly, drunken factory hand to get it. We’re independent women and call the shots: most of the time. The season pays for the lifestyles for the rest of the year. And we can do whatever we like then.”
Alex nodded her understanding and felt quite sad, in reality they were just like prostitutes and they really didn’t know it.
8. CHAMPIONSHIP RACE DAY, Saturday 25th June 1910.
Agatha said, “Good afternoon.” To several people but didn’t stop to chat: she had her pony to dress and prepare for the races. Alex was walking behind on her leash still a little surprised that Agatha had taken her to the bathroom and washed her down like a horse! She was wearing little make-up, just thick red lipstick, eye shadow and some blush. What really surprised Alex was when Agatha applied Vaseline to vagina and anus. “It makes your fanny shine and we apply it to mares, so you get it too and of course, your bum needs it for the tail.” Agatha had explained.
Alex was naked except for her racing shoes and also had lotion applied to her skin – all over – because it was a warm sunny afternoon, to prevent sunburn. Agatha really enjoyed oiling her pony, frequently touching her vagina and spend quite a while covering Alex’s breasts, giving her big nipples a little kiss.
She was led into the
relatively cool stables and walked to the waiting carriage, which had been
cleaned and waxed. Agatha was wearing her ‘master’s or driving colours’, a black
and red corset, which pushed her ample bosom right up, with matching French
knickers, laced up knee length boots, elbow length black gloves and a black
ribbon tying back her hair, and of course, the obligatory whip. She unhooked the
leash and stood Alex between the arms of the carriage and slowly fitted her
breast harness and decorative ostrich feather headgear. Next was the silver and
wood mouthpiece. She fixed the reins to her pony’s ample bust and handed her
the gloves to pull on. Finally she affixed a little ribboned bell to each erect
nipple and gave them a playful flick. Agatha eased in the carriage and flicked
the reins a couple of times and was satisfied that all was working correctly.
She jumped from the carriage and checked her pony one last time.
That’s when mister Cope joined her, struggling to carry a box and he smiled at Alex, but didn’t smile at Agatha. He placed the box down and apologised for the late development, but Agatha just sighed and asked what he wanted. Mister Cope explained that some of the gang thought Alex did too well in the Fox Hunt, the breast & bucket race and in the training run. Particularly in the fox Hunt despite carrying weights and without them, could easily outrun the other girls. He apologised again, saying Lady Maude’s pony would also be weighed: she was known to swim well and was clearly fitter than most girls…ponies.
“Cut to the chase mister Cope.” Was all Agatha said and Mister Cope produced a set of weights from the box. “I’m afraid they’re insisting that yours and Lady Maude’s ponies carry a handicap of five pounds to make the race a fairer contest.” Agatha just nodded, “Five pounds, that’s not bad placed on my pony’s large breasts. I’ll accept that.” Mister Cope didn’t smile, “Because of her performance in the Fox Hunt, they insist each breast carries five pounds and….” He hesitated, seeing the look on Agatha’s face, then found some inner strength – he was the bloody race steward after all – and added; “With a five-pound fanny weight too.” He said quickly and smiled. Agatha just shook her head and ran a hand over Alex’s bum. “Fifteen-pound handicap for a novice in this race? How much is Maude’s new girl carrying?” Mister Cope shrugged his shoulder and said quietly, “Just the tit weights, so yours will carry a bit extra, that’s all. It will make it much fairer Agatha. Yours is certainly the fittest girl here.”
Agatha caressed Alex’s bum and then nodded, gesturing to the box “Come on, let’s have them, the bloody Championship race starts in ten minutes, and I haven’t given her a warmup yet.” Mister Cope rummaged in the box and handed Agatha the tit weights which she checked, reading the stamp on them. “Feels about right.” And turned to Alex, taking hold of her left tit and removed the bell and rubbed her nipple a couple of times to make it erect again. When she received no reaction, she sucked hard on it and achieved the right result. The weight was fixed with a clamp and had two thin wires which Agatha fixed to the band already clamped on Alex’s tit. The weight pulled her big breast down and Alex winced with the pain. Agatha told her to hold her tits until the race started and Alex – thankfully, did so – especially when the second one was fitted. Mister Cope handed Agatha the weight for Alex’s fanny which was egg-shaped and again, had thin straps for attaching to the butt plugs straps. Alex groaned a little as Agatha pushed it into vagina with some force and tied the straps. She patted Alex “You’ll be fine. Just do your best and I’ll be pleased.”
A trumpet was being sounded and Agatha cursed, “Come on pony, that’s the call for competitors to parade.” She removed her coat and slipped into her little carriage and shouted to Alex “Hands On!” and Alex gripped the two shafts tightly. Agatha shouted “Walk” and Alex set off for the big doors and out into the yard, joining the rear of the line. She could see all the girls were harnessed up like her and each one carried a different coloured feather on their heads. But only her and the girl, two carriages down, were carrying weights. The ponies were paraded before the crowd in race order and Alex felt a little strange as they passed in front of the people and realised how those beauty queens of past ages felt, striding out in flimsy bathing costumes. At least they had those, apart from her harness, shoes and headgear, she was stark bloody naked! When the parade finished Mister Cope would call the competitors to order and started the race.
He was standing on a stepladder with a small megaphone announcing the race and the runners. He told the competitors to move to the line. Agatha leaned forward and told Alex that is was twice around the wall, about two miles in duration and the points were the finishing positions in reverse, so, the winner [1st] would receive Five points and the last carriage to cross the line would receive one point. “I’m lying in joint second place with Lady Maude who has nine points, with Lady Alice Darlington in first with ten points. So I want a good showing today or those two will run away with this season’s championship.” That when she gave Alex’s bum a slap with the whip which made her jump in pain. “You understand pony?” Agatha said and Alex nodded. Agatha waited for the front carriages to move off to the starting line before shouting “Walk!”
Alex pulled the little cart and Lady Agatha to her position in the starting line-up and stared at the other girls. Some had whip marks on their buttocks and backs already. Only her and Lady Maude’s girl had no such fresh markings. Agatha leaned forward and said quietly, “Take note pony, those three are suborn and disobedient. Lady’s Maude’s pony has accepted her fate and obeys. As I say, take note pony. Do you understand?” Alex nodded slowly and then saw Mister Cope stand by the line up with a red flag in his hand and a pair of binoculars in the other. She also saw John Martin Jackson standing just behind who lifted a hand and smiled. Agatha leaned forward almost whispering, “It’s very important to me that you give a good showing today. I want you to sparkle, in fact, I think that will be your pony name in future!” Alex nodded thinking, yes for bloody today only, no more races for me after this.
Mr. Cope shouted “One!” And Lady Agatha gripped the reins which controlled Alex’s breasts and gave them a tug, satisfying herself they were fitted correctly and working well. Mister Cope shouted “Two!” And Alex gripped the shafts and cussed under her breath. He shouted GO!” and Lady Agatha slapped the whip against Alex’s quivering buttocks, and she started to run, immediately feeling the weights on her tits and the nasty one in her vagina. “Go pony go!” Agatha shouted and the ponies and carriages ran down the gravel drive towards the archway and onto the road which snaked around the estate, just feet from the stone wall.
Alex was about fourth and running next to Lady Maude’s carriage as they passed through the archway and onto the estate road. Alex could now feel the weights pulling down on her heaving breasts, the pain was growing a little as her breasts moved up and down. But the vagina weight was making her horny! She cussed under her breath, not liking the fact that she was actually enjoying the dull pain as her legs moved up and down. She felt her left breast being pulled and so she turned left, then noticed all the carriages were turning, but she had turned first and now lay third as the carriages came to the ‘banana’ bridge [a stone bridge that was almost an archway, it crossed the river that passed through the estate] it also meant running up quite a steep slope and she breathed heavily as she started to ascend. She could hear Agatha shouting about pulling harder, then felt the whip hit her right buttock cheek, then another slapped her left cheek, it was hard and stung, making her yelp. “Pull pony! Pull pony! Or they will get away from us!”
Alex gripped the arm-shafts and speeded up a little and reached the apex, she was careful not to lose her footing and ran down, breathing a bit easier now. But she was still in third place as they passed the gate-keepers cottage and headed out through the small woods. Her breasts were now aching, and her fanny was aroused and leaking, the bloody weight in there was acting like a dildo!
The carriages sped through the woods and Alex felt her right tit being pulled and she turned right immediately, hearing Agatha shout “Good Pony!” She was panting heavily now as the passed the derelict cottages, watched by a tramp who just stood and stared in utter amazement. He slipped back inside a cottage and sat down. Swearing that he would give up mixing paraffin with stale bitter that the pub landlord had generously given him!
The carriages were now on the road back to the house and Agatha was unhappy that they were a close third, now behind Maude’s carriage. The leader was Sir Herbert, but his pony was already under the whip. Agatha knew it would be between her and Lady Maude at the finish. She looked behind see that the colonel’s pony was also under the whip. But Agatha waited and just maintained her position until they swung right again and headed for the archway. Alex was shaking off a feeling of dizziness and breathing deep. That’s when she heard Agatha shouting, “Now pony! Run like the wind! Go pony!” and suddenly felt the whip slap against her buttocks and knew that she would be under the whip until the finish. Alex now determined not to have her bum lacerated, found some hidden strength and pulled hard, her breasts now actually bouncing despite the straps. But the butt plug and weight dildo were really taking affect and Alex knew a strange little orgasm was on its way!
She pulled past a surprised Lady Maude, who responded by slapping her pony’s rump a couple of times and swearing loudly. Agatha slapped her whip across Alex’s buttocks again and yelled encouragement as they passed under the arch, neck and neck with Sir Herbert, who thought he had the race won and was now galvanized into slapping his pony’s arse. But Alex wasn’t stopping and passed Sir Herbert and passed Mr. Coles waving a bright red flag, she could feel both breasts being pulled so she came to a stop and, stood bent over breathing deep and had an orgasm! Her cum ran a little down her thighs and her legs shook.
Agatha jumped from the carriage holding her whip aloft and accepted the applause and cheering of the crowds. She hugged Alex and whispered; “That was fucking unbelievable pony! A novice carrying full weights has never won this race before. You are a pony, a bloody top class, racing pony! Well done!” and kissed Alex on the lips. Lady Maude came over and hugged Agatha, she actually seemed pleased that Alex had won so well: for a novice. The two women whispered together, and Agatha grabbed Alex’s arm and guided her to the stables, followed by the other carriages and exhausted pony’s. Agatha ran her hand up Alex’s thighs and to her vagina. Now she really smiled, “Good pony, cumming like that shows you can carry big fanny weights and enjoy the exquisite pain. Now let’s get you cleaned up, there will be a parade in the ballroom where the prizes are awarded, so I want you looking your very best.”
Alex just nodded her head, panting and taking deep breaths as she was led, still pulling her cart, towards the stables. John Martin Jackson stopped Agatha and congratulated her on the near impossible win. He took her to one side – out of Alex’s hearing – and they spoke briefly. It was a very happy Agatha that returned and finished walking Alex to the stables.
After resting for the afternoon and applying cream and makeup to her abused arse, Alex dressed for the ball and prize giving in the ball room. Ladies were allowed to wear stockings and suspenders and dancing heels, while the men wore a bowtie.
Alex wondered about John Martin Jackson, she hadn’t been able to get much out of Agatha, except he was very rich and a great patron of Hendon House. He was almost a fanatical follower of ‘pony-girl’ racing, keeping several ponies at his Virginia Ranch.
Agatha said there was a whole network of ‘masters’ across the south and mid-west of America and the Holy Grail of their racing calendar was the ‘Grand National Carriage Race’, held once a year. It was the most gruelling race that a master could enter his pony for, but to win brought great cash rewards and much prestige. Jackson had won it twice out of the last five running’s and stood on the verge of making history, if he could secure a third win. He would be the first master in its fifty-one years of history to complete a hat-trick [win three times] and he ached and desired nothing else apparently.
Alex met Owen in the ballroom, and they chatted, with Owen suggesting they take Abigail on a picnic [she loved picnics] to cheer her up. Apparently, Sir Herbert blamed her for losing the championship race and had her bent over the small wooden horse in the stable yard and ‘paddled’ for not trying and disobeying her master. Owen grunted, “You could read a book by her poor arse, it’s practically glowing!”
The evening started with a pony parade, normally led by the winner of the Championship Race, but Alex had told Agatha that her promise was only to train for the race and take part. After that, she was no longer Agatha’s pet ‘pony’. Agatha sulked for a while but could do nothing about it. Her and Maude discussed the problem over a brandy in Agatha’s study. Maude was really impressed how Agatha was handling the public slight by her pony. But Agatha sipped her brandy and smiled. “Revenge comes in many forms dear Maude. I am two thousand Guinea’s better off now thanks to Alexandra Keppel and will smile even more this evening after the Championship Ball.” Maude was a little puzzled, the prize money for the Championship Cup was only a thousand guinea’s.
The ponies were paraded in their racing ‘colours’ by their master’s walking them on leashes and the crowd clapped and cheered, but the room was full of gossip about Lady Agatha’s defiant little pony, and the arrival of John Martin Jackson in person, to give out the prizes. He handed Lady Agatha the large silver trophy [a naked girl in full pony harness] and a silver box containing gold sovereigns to the value of 1,000 guinea’s. Then the runner-up [Lady Maude] received her prize: a solid gold Ostrich feather and 350 guinea’s, while Lady Darlington received a gold trinket box and 100 guinea’s. What the pony’s received was not disclosed, that was up to their masters. John Martin Jackson danced with Alex : twice and had to take his leave, he was catching a big steamer back to America and his ranch. He needed to prepare for the time trials that picked the eight finalists for the Grand National Carriage Race, later in the year. He hoped to run two ‘mares’. [filly’s or young women could not enter, so the ponies were normally women in their twenties and any pony over twenty-one was referred to as a mare]
The grand ball broke up and Alex told Abigail about the picnic, and she was delighted. The team had an ulterior motive, tomorrow was the day that Abigail vanished. So they would stick close to her and hopefully prevent that. The only incident was the head security man informing Lady Agatha that two intruders had been chased off the grounds by the dogs and his men, after trying to sneak in, by paddling down the river in a small canoe!
Owen and Alex exchanged a glance, and both smiled, they had a feeling that Jericho and Divij’s plan had gone astray, and it was now down to them.
9. A BITTER FAREWELL TO THE NAKED EDWARDIANS.
Despite shouting her name several times, Abigail didn’t answer, so they abandoned the picnic and their bikes, and set off in the small woods to find her. “She can’t have gone far in a few minutes!” Owen shouted adding, “She knows the guard patrols start down by the stream, so she won’t go there.” Alex shouted her agreement and the pair now searched with some concern. They walked at speed through the dark woodland and Alex actually shivered, folding her arms, keeping a good grip on her shoulder bag which contained hers and Owen’s mirrors.
That’s when Alex noticed the line of stones protruding from the long grass, they formed a pattern, she stared at the old stones and realised they were the remains of a wall, a very ancient wall. She called Owen over and fumbled in her bag and pulled out her mirror. “Sweet Jesus! It’s over seven thousand years old, which means it was erected in the bloody Stone-age.” Owen nodded and lowered his mirror and said quietly, “Let’s follow it.” They walked the length of the wall which took them deep into the ancient woodlands. Suddenly, standing before them, half buried in the grass and surrounded by big trees, was an archway.
Owen held out his mirror and cussed loudly, “Fuck me! It’s a rogue time portal and it’s bloody rotating through time! 1830, 1999, 2105, 73BC, 1642….” He stopped talking and ran a hand over his face, “Oh my God Alex, Abigail must have walked through the arch and she’s now, well, she could be bloody anywhere in time!” That’s when Alex’s mirror buzzed, it was Jericho and Alex started to tell him about the rotating time portal, then stopped. The timeline had reverted to the original and Miss Abigail Costner had not appeared in 1969. But her soul was still missing. Alex wiped a tear and explained they had taken Abigail on a picnic, and she stumbled through the portal before they could stop her.
There was silence from Jericho, and he cussed. “For Christ sake, us going back to solve this mission caused the mission in the first place, a bloody time loop and we started it. It’s solved our problem, but Abigail is now lost somewhere that we can’t track her down unless we visit every place in every time which is bloody impossible. Little wonder the house party ended after the carriage races. Your picnic should never have occurred because you shouldn’t be there. But by going back, we’ve caused Abigail to vanish again and now we can’t rescue her.” Alex heard him sigh loudly “OK, jump back when you can. I’ll see you when you when you return.” The message ended and they both stood staring at the archway. Owen lifted his mirror and operated it. He took a deep breath, “It’s closed now, but too fucking late for Abigail.” Alex gripped his arm and the pair walked back to the picnic area and collected their bikes. They would return to the house and collect their things, leaving no physical trace of their visit and then jump home.
The cycle back was in silence, and they handed the bikes over to Carson the chauffer and went to their rooms. To her surprise she found Agatha sitting by the fire with a tray of drinks. Alex could not – obviously – tell her about Abigail’s fate. That had to play out as it happened in the original timeline. Agatha gestured her over and held up two glasses of champagne “Well done my little pony, have a drink to celebrate an incredible victory. That was the first time ever that a novice won the race whilst handicapped. Well done!” Alex took the glass and raised it, she wouldn’t of course tell Agatha that she was about to vanish, just that she had to return to London with the painter. She hadn’t thought of a reason yet, but she was thinking of some. She was impressed that Agatha had overcome her anger at being slighted at the ball and Alex not racing for her anymore.
They drank the champagne and Agatha smiled broadly, placing her glass down and walked over to the servants bell push and operated it. “Well pony, Let’s get you settled down for the long trip to America, you see, I had an offer from an a very rich and powerful pony fancier there. He’s purchased you on the say so of his agent here. So, you’ll be shipped off, first class of course, to now live and work as a full-time pony. His agent will be here to collect you. You’ll be happy because you know him, and he certainly knows you after fucking your brains out.” She chuckled and the door opened, with Colonel George Harrington-Walker standing there. He grinned, “Come to collect the bosses new pet Agatha.”
Agatha gestured to Alex, then said wait, the drug was now kicking in. Alex couldn’t stand and slowly lowered herself back on the sofa and held her head, she couldn’t stop the desire to sleep and realised she had been drugged! The empty glass slipped from her hand, and she lay on the sofa breathing heavily as Agatha appeared leaning over her. She kissed Alex’s forehead and smiled, whispering, “Oh yes, my darling little pony. You’ll be my best pay day yet. You’ll spend the rest of your working life as a pony, then unless your owner wants to keep you for sexual pleasure, they’ll sell you on to the brothels of the middle east, so my advice is to please your new master! They might keep you as a breeding mare, some are raising their pony’s literally from birth and that’s a nice thought, isn’t it? Your daughters trained to be ponies and race for their masters like their mother did. Sleep well my darling, for when you wake, you’ll be a woman no more, just a pony. That will be the only life you will now know. Oh, and by the way, you are no longer Alexandra Keppel, she’s gone completely, and you are now known simply by your pony name: ‘Sparkle’. Lovely name, isn’t it? Goodnight darling.” Agatha kissed her forehead again as the darkness closed over Alex and she dreamed, terrible dreams of dark thoughts. She had discovered too late and at some cost, that Lady Agatha was a peddler of young female flesh for profits to powerful and perverted men and women.
George covered his master’s new acquisition with a blanket and wrapped her tightly. “We’ll drive down to Southampton docks and tomorrow catch a big steamer to Boston. The master will have his private train waiting and so, little ‘Sparkle’ will be safely locked up in her new home. What are you going to tell that idiot painter friend of hers?” Agatha just shrugged her shoulders, she’ll think of something, after all, he can’t go to the police, he knows he would be dead before he opened his stupid mouth! Her patron’s wouldn’t allow him to say a word and she believed the young man valued his life.
“Are you shipping your pony [Rosaline] with this one?” Agatha asked, sipping her drug free glass of champagne. George nodded, “That stupid cow has a loose mouth, so I sold her cheap to the master, his generous to me because I serve him well. So I shut her mouth and made some money!” Agatha smiled, “Well done George, you best get going, I’ll explain you had an urgent business appointment in London. Good luck my friend.”
George heaved Alex into his arms and easily carried her away, down the rear servant’s stairs and headed for the stables. Carson stood by the car with the rear door open and George carefully placed Alex in, on the seat. There was another bundle on the floor: Rosaline. Carson grunted and closed the door as George joined in him in the front. “Well make Southampton and stay in the old cottage, then parcel these two up for shipment and catch the bloody big steamer.” Carson nodded and started the car, “I wish I was going, I’d love a nice sea voyage on a big ship.”
George chuckled, “It’s a tramp steamer, under an Algerian flag. The captain doesn’t ask too many questions about his cargo’s because he’s paid well not too. The girls can stay below, locked in some old animal cages. The bastard [the captain?] use to smuggle wild animals for zoo’s and circus’s, really illegal stuff. So he’s a good man to work with. These two will have company, I understand that ‘Ali one eye’ is also shipping some girls out to the good old US of A. All underage stuff for old madam Victoria’s special brothel in Washington. Most are daughters of Russian and Polish immigrants who simply couldn’t turn down the money offered, and the British press aren’t really interested in their fate, had they been English, then it would be headlines. The yank authorities don’t care, as long as the girls ain’t American!”
George was a happy and contented man, he had received a large amount of money from his ‘master’ and had silenced Alexandra. He didn’t know how she knew about his past, but she wouldn’t be telling anyone now – well, anyone who would be interested and could actually do anything about it! – and he had unloaded bloody Rosaline. She was on the verge of blackmailing him about his dirty little secrets and this took care of both big, mouthed women. All in all, George was having a really good weekend.
Alex
slept soundly until she woke and was physically sick on the floor that was covered
with straw, Still unbalanced she managed to sit up and stare around the small room,
she couldn’t take it in, the room looked like a small stable! That’s when she realised,
she was chained to the brick wall with a thick leather collar on. It was
embossed with letters, and she ran a finger over them and whispered what they
spelt: ‘Sparkle’. Her pony name. Alex was naked apart from the collar and she
reached out and grabbed a blanket, wrapping it around then noticed the
monogram: ‘JMJ. With crossed whips underneath. She managed to whisper, “Who the
hell is JMJ?” Then the realization of
who that was, hit her like a bat over the head.
When the ‘stable’ door opened she was about to find out that Agatha had been persuaded to sell her basically untrained, she knew now that the bastard George was probably the instigator of that. He probably feared she would expose his murderous past and so, solved the problem by convincing Agatha to sell her early to a powerful and fanatical pony-girl trainer, owner, and racer of the girls. A certain John Martin Jackson of Nevada, in the USA!
She
had already been shipped to her new owner and now lay in his
stable block that contained nine other girls, who now of course, were also his pony’s.
She lay under the blanket and sobbed,
wondering when rescue would arrive: she knew that her friends and colleagues of
Temporal Team 74 would be on her trail. It was just a question of when they
arrived and would they be
in time?
