Chapter Sixteen: Racing Day
The next four weeks passed rather quickly. The routine was the same each day. After breakfast the sluts would report to the parade grounds for exercises. It was obvious that trustee brenda enjoyed watching their bodies glisten with sweat in the morning sun. She would often stand where she could clearly see slut jj’s ass quivering as she attempted to complete the fifty required pushups.
Following exercises, the sluts would run four laps around the rim trail– now stopping properly after the second lap for water and sports drink. Sluts jj and julia continued to pull trustee brenda’s chariot. Sluts marcie and aina pulled trustee yvonne’s. Each day, trustee brenda would sarcastically say to them,“I think you two need more practice keeping in step. I’ve never seen a team have so much difficulty keeping proper step.” Slut aina cried because trustee brenda was displeased. Slut marcie merely looked back at her with dry eyes and a totally blank expression.
In the afternoon, they would report to the stables where the drivers would tack out their ponies and then go to the practice track for sixty laps– two sets of ten laps with each of the racing steps. Each day, trustee brenda would choose two of the teams for what she called a “challenge race.”
The loser of that race was supposed to clean all the tack and put it away, but the sluts ignored her and continued to clean and put away their own tack.
At the end of the fourth week, trustee brenda broke the routine. “We have something special for you all today,” she said brightly. “We will be only doing thirty laps this afternoon and then you will have some free time. After an early supper, there will be another movie night.”
She paused to smile at the squad, “This movie is a reward for all of you doing such a good job. There is no quiz or questions tonight.”
Something about the movie night must have put trustee brenda in a good mood. She hardly used her whip at all as they sped around the rim trail and didn’t turn back to yell at the sluts even once. In the afternoon, she again kept things at a slightly slower pace and refrained from her usual diatribes against the ponies and drivers. She even rode her chariot over to the stables rather than walking away and telling trustee yvonne to deal with things.
Trustee brenda stood quietly at the stables as the drivers removed the tack from the ponies. As the ponies were cleaning the tack, sluts vivian and powers helped trustee yvonne with the chariot ponies. When everything was in place, trustee brenda said– very quietly for her– “You are dismissed to the barracks. Clean up and take some time to yourself. Evening meal is in one hour.”
The sluts were relatively quiet as they jogged back to the barracks. All of them wondered at the change in trustee brenda, but none of them wanted to jinx it by saying anything.
Following supper, trustee brenda– still in nice mode– ordered them to double time to the hangar in a double column.
The sluts expected to once again find desks set up in front of the screen at the end of the hangar, but instead there were comfortable folding chairs with long, thin tables in front of them like you would find in a conference room at a fancy hotel.
The tables had been set up so that five sluts could sit in each row. There were headsets at each place and a small bent card with a number printed on it. As before, red one through five were in the front row. Blue numbers were in the second row. The third row started with the one green number, eighteen, and then the black numbers began. The fourth row had the last three black numbers with two empty seats on the right. That meant that slut marcie’s seat was directly behind where slut molly would sit.
Near the front, to one side of the rows of chairs, was a regular table with water, pop, and some assorted snacks sitting on it. Trustee yvonne explained, “You may each take one bottle of liquid and two of the snacks before your sit down. Slut marcie grabbed a bottle of water and two packages of cookies before going to her seat. As she walked back to her row, her water bottle brushed against slut molly’s headphones, knocking them to the ground.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said to slut molly, and quickly handed her the headphones from her own place. As she stooped to pick up slut molly’s headphones, she glanced around nervously to see if anyone had seen her make the switch.
Commander Mueller stood between the tables and the screen. “Tonight is a reward,” he said with a gesture toward the screen. “It is solely for your pleasure. I think that most of you will enjoy this film, though its depiction of events is not very close to what a true Master - Slave relationship actually is.”
He clasped his hands together and shrugged his shoulders slightly, “But it is a fantasy.” he said lightly, “that I know many of you submissive sluts enjoy very much.” His voice got slightly firmer as he said, “And many of you who hope one day to be true Masters or Mistresses can also learn much from this film– or at least from our viewing it tonight. If you are going to keep a slave devoted to you, sometimes you must occasionally fulfill their fantasies as well as your own.”
As he walked away, the lights in the hangar began to dim and the opening credits of the movie appeared on the screen. As slut marcie had expected from the commander’s remarks, it was “Fifty Shades of Grey.”
“JJ will like this,” she thought to herself as the sluts quieted down to watch.
About forty minutes into the movie, the soundtrack in her headset was interrupted by a woman’s voice that she didn’t recognize. “Slut molly, we have an emergency call for you in the office. Your sister Elaine is trying to get in touch with you about an urgent family matter.”
Slut marcie did not respond to the announcement, but instead moved only her eyes in an attempt to see who might be expecting slut molly to leave. Everyone was watching the movie– except trustee brenda. Trustee brenda was watching slut molly.
About ten minutes later, the woman’s voice again interrupted the sound track in slut marcie’s headset. “Slut molly, you are ordered to report to the office. If there is some reason you do not wish to speak to your sister, Elaine, you need to explain that to us.”
Trustee brenda was now walking down the outer edge of the rows. She paused at slut molly and looked down. Slut molly did not notice her presence, or at least she did not acknowledge it. Slut marcie noticed, but she kept her eyes focused straight ahead as the trustee checked each slut to see if anyone was reacting to the message.
“Got you!” slut marcie thought to herself as she stared at the screen. She nervously bit her lower lip debating with herself. Then after a few moments she let out a long, slow breath and said in a very soft whisper, “It’s now or never.”
She leaned over against slut gerard and whispered, “Mr Fittsgivens, I have to talk to you.”
Slut gerard instantly went very tense. His eyes darted around the room checking to see if anyone had heard slut marcie. Then he leaned slightly toward her and said, “On the way back to the barracks.”
Slut marcie nodded her head and both went back to pretending that they were watching the film.
When the film ended, trustee brenda was not in the hangar. Trustee yvonne stood up front and said, “Squad is dismissed to the barracks. You may move freely around the barracks until lights out at nine.”
The sluts stood and began moving toward the door of the hangar. Since they had not been ordered to double time and no formation had been specified, they ended up walking slowly in a long straggly line with small groups discussing the pluses and minuses of the film.
Slut marcie and slut gerard were among the last to leave the hangar. Seeing the line of sluts and hearing the chatter, slut gerard relaxed slightly before turning to slut marcie and saying loudly, “So, what did you think of Christian Grey?”
He continued walking, but moved off slightly to his right so that they were more in the shadows. “Trustee yvonne thinks the spy was one of the sissy sluts trustee brenda got rid of,” slut marcie said softly. “But when she said something about a consulting company, I remembered where I had heard your voice before.”
“And…” he said softly.
“It isn’t the guards or the Masters,” she said quickly. “It’s the office staff. I switched headphones with slut molly tonight. They told her that there was an emergency call and she should go to the office. They probably did the same thing to slut darlene and all the others.”
Mr Fittsgivens– slut gerard– merely nodded.
“I think they target green sluts,” slut marcie continued. “They must want unwilling slaves that won’t be too hard to break after they sell them to someone. Trustee brenda is in on it, but I don’t know about any of the other trustees… except trustee yvonne.”
“That explains a lot,” slut gerard answered softly. “The office staff is invisible here. They don’t have any real contact with the recruits. We were concentrating on the active boot camp staff and other people of power. The office staff must be doing it solely for the money, so we never made the connection.”
“So what do we do now?” she asked.
“Commander Mueller is clean,” slut gerard replied. “He is the one who actually ordered this investigation. Trustee yvonne was sent to us more to keep her out of our way than anything else.”
“So you have to talk to Commander Mueller,” slut marcie said.
“No,” he answered firmly. “YOU have to talk to Commander Mueller. I need to stay in the shadows until we can act. If anyone involved sees me near the commander they will guess that I am the spy and that I am on to them. We don’t want them to run before we can find the missing women.”
Slut gerrard looked around to make sure that they were still alone before saying softly. “Commander Mueller doesn’t know who I am. There is a code phrase which I am supposed to use to reveal myself to him. You have to use that phrase and give him a message.”
“What message?” slut marcie asked.
Slut gerrard gave her the code phrase and the exact message that had to be delivered.
After he finished, she asked, “But how can I get close enough to him to give him the message without trustee brenda knowing what is going on?”
“I’m relying on you to come up with a way,” he replied softly, and then suddenly he said very loudly, “Well, I guess men and women are always going to see that movie differently.”
Trustee yvonne had caught up with them. “Catch up to the rest of the squad,” she said, almost angrily. “I have to keep watch on all of you. Trustee brenda got called over to the office for something.”
Slut gerard and slut marcie looked at each other as she mouthed out, “I’ll bet she did.” Then smiling, she began jogging toward the barracks.
The next morning, after breakfast, when the sluts went into formation at the parade ground for their daily exercises, trustee brenda stood before them and loudly said, “There will be no calisthenics today.”
Her announcement was met with smiles and cries of joy from most of the sluts. The smiles disappeared rapidly, however, as trustee brenda continued speaking. “Instead,” she yelled out, “we will all be going over to the performance track for a chariot race. There is a tradition here at Box M where trustees from the previous boot camp race against the trustees of this boot camp.”
She smiled evilly at trustee yvonne and then looked directly at slut marcie as she said, “Trustee yvonne doesn’t seem to know how to handle a chariot team and doesn’t have a chance. So, I will represent this boot camp in the race.”
She then pointed to sluts jj and julia and barked out, “Go to the stables. Trustee yvonne will get you tacked out and harnessed to my chariot.”
Sluts jj and julia immediately began running toward the stables. Trustee yvonne jogged behind them. She did not look pleased.
“In every boot camp,” trustee brenda continued, “there are sluts who desire to enter a life of true total submission.” She smiled menacingly at one of the red sluts in the front row. “Sometimes that means that they submit themselves to another member of the boot camp, but most often it means that they stay here at the ranch for further training and a …” She paused as if trying to think of the proper word. “… probationary period.”
Again she smiled, this time at another red slut in the second row. “After a few months,” she continued, “they truly know what the life of a slave would be. At that point they either leave or they submit themselves and are sold to their permanent master.” She looked around, “It is also at that point where permanent brands or tattoos are applied and permanent removal of all hair is effected– unless the new master prefers otherwise.
“This race is their opportunity to show how well trained they have become. The trustees’ chariot race is after the race of the slutslaves. Normally there will be prospective Masters and Mistresses in the stands watching. That is why we always select as our ponies, two of the sluts who are very likely to choose to remain here at Box M.”
She paused as trustee yvonne returned with the chariot. Sluts julia and jj were tacked out in white.
As trustee brenda stepped up onto her chariot, she ordered, “Box in, column of two, follow!” and cracked the whip over the heads of the ponies. “Forward!” she screamed. “Faster! Full trot speed! Keep those knees up!”
The column of sluts jogged along behind her chariot as she led them to the back of the camp where there was what appeared, at first, to be a stock car dirt-track raceway. It was not, however, intended for automobiles.
There was a covered grandstand capable of seating at least a thousand people. The roof extended significantly forward of the front row so that it almost stretched out over the track itself. It was obvious that the design was intended to keep the hot, Texas sun off the first rows.
The stands were about one-fourth full. The Masters-in-training class was there in one side section, as well as– from their white bottoms– a trustees-in-training class. Camo-clad men and women stood here and there in the stands. They were there possibly just to watch the race, but their appearance of vigilance betrayed the fact that they were security for the prominent guests who had the prime seats in the middle section. Scattered among those well-dressed guests was an occasional naked slave, sitting next to her Master or Mistress or kneeling at their feet.
A camo-clad figure signaled trustee brenda and she snapped her whip and yelled out, “Forward.”
As the sluts came into the track, they could see that there was a reviewing stand on the infield at the starting line. It, too, had an exaggerated sun roof. Seated at the reviewing stand were Commander Mueller, a dozen or more Masters and Mistresses dressed in the Box M uniforms, and six men in what could best described as “business casual.”
There was nothing casual about these men, however. As trustee brenda led the sluts past the reviewing stand, the men stared down at them like hawks watching a small mouse in a field. Slut marcie had the feeling that any one of them could swoop down in an instant and impale her with their talons. Some of the sluts were obviously afraid– even trembling. Slut marcie was no less afraid, but her head was held high and her step sure as trustee brenda circled her chariot into the infield and turned to face the sluts.
“Form beside the reviewing stand,” she barked out, “Four by four, reverse slut order, highest numbers in the front.”
The sluts scrambled to obey her command. Slut marcie was now in the front row, just inches from the track itself. “They want us to see the race,” she thought to herself. “And they want the prospective Masters to see the submissives in the back row.”
She didn’t turn her head to look, but the soft whimpers from the rows behind her told her that the Masters on the reviewing stand were indeed watching the mice beneath them… and the mice knew it.
Trustee brenda brought her chariot up alongside the formation as six carts came out onto the track. The ponies were tacked out in white. All of the drivers were Masters or Mistresses. They lined up across the track at the starting line.
Commander Mueller was standing at a microphone on the reviewing stand. He said, “This is a demonstration race of three laps. The first lap will be at Prance Step; The second will be at Trot Pace; and the third will be full-out Gallop.”
He then counted down, “Three, two, one, go!”
The sluts took off in perfect form and quickly came up to speed. One cart was lagging slightly behind while another cart was slightly ahead, but for the most part the six carts were tightly-packed. As they crossed the checkered stripe the first time, the drivers could be heard to command, “Trot Step!”
Each pony immediately changed into that rhythmic step. The change was very obvious in the notes from their nipple bells. As they crossed the stripe the second time, the drivers each shouted, “Gallop!” and snapped their whips above the heads of the ponies. None of the drivers actually touched the ponies with the whip. You wouldn’t want to mark a pony and make her less desirable to a prospective master.
The ponies were now running flat out and the differences in their natural speeds was very apparent. By the time they reached the finish line, one pony was almost a full length ahead of the pack, while another was almost a full length back. The other four were all within a wheel length of each other as they crossed the line.
The people in the stands gave the ponies and drivers a polite round of applause as they made one cool down lap at a slow jog and then pulled into the infield to line up alongside the reviewing stand opposite from where the boot camp squad was standing.
Trustee brenda now moved forward with her chariot and brought it around to the starting line. As she waited there, two more chariots came out from behind the grandstands.
The chariots seemed identical to the one which trustee brenda was using. And the ponies were tacked out in the same white tack and harness. One difference was that one of the ponysluts was male. That was made more obvious by the fact that there was a chest belt holding his nipple bells than it was by his small penis which barely protruded through the pull belt’s crotch strap.
The three chariots lined up at the starting line and a camo-clad figure walked out onto the track carrying a green flag. It was Sarge. His booming voice carried throughout the racetrack without the aid of a microphone. “This is a four lap Gallop Race,” he growled out. “Since this is a quarter-mile track,” he continued, “that means you will be racing for one mile.”
Slut marcie smiled and thought to herself, “Will he explain everything three times?”
Sarge didn’t explain everything three times, but he did go through a quick list of rules, the main one of which was that you could not intentionally strike or harm another chariot’s ponies or driver. He then stepped to the side and raised the green flag high in the air.
He stood there for several moments with the flag fluttering above his head and then swiftly snapped it down in an arc all the way to the ground.
Cries of “Forward!,” “Hi-ee-up!” and “GO!” filled the air mixed with the loud cracking of the whips. Slut marcie noted that the other two charioteers were snapping their whips above the heads of their ponies while trustee brenda was already popping welts on slut jj’s and slut julia’s asses.
The three sets of ponies seemed to be very well-matched. Or, more likely, the charioteers were all holding back slightly to save their ponies for the last lap. One mile is a long way to run full out, and the ponies would probably need one last burst of speed in the final stretch.
The crowd in the grandstands was screaming, shouting, and urging this or that chariot on. The group on the reviewing stand, however, sat mutely watching the race proceed. Slut marcie noted that although Commander Mueller, who was standing, turned to follow the chariots around the backstretch, none of Masters or Mistresses twisted their heads or bodies to see more than the straightaway in front of the grandstand.
When the chariots passed the reviewing stand for the third time, they were still dead even. Now the other charioteers began snapping their whips not only above the heads of their ponies, but about once in each five snaps, the whip would pop against a bare asscheek.
Trustee brenda was beginning to fall behind. She was now screaming almost maniacally and her whip was slamming down hard on the backs and necks of sluts jj and julia.
Despite the fact that both were running as fast as they could and sweat was pouring from their bodies, trustee brenda’s chariot was starting to fall behind. It was not a large margin. The lead chariot was about a wheel’s length ahead of the second chariot, and that chariot was about a wheel’s length ahead of trustee brenda. She was, however, still losing.
In one last bid to take the lead, trustee brenda began continuously slashing at her ponies’ backs and asses. She was barely controlling her whip, however, and just short of the finish line, her whip struck low– too low– and wrapped around slut julia’s thigh, just above the knee, preventing her from bringing her leg forward.
Slut julia went down, dragging the chariot into a circle which nearly slammed into the front row of boot camp sluts before skidding to a stop at the edge of the track. It was obvious that slut julia was injured and slut marcie broke ranks and rushed onto the track.
Releasing the pull chains, slut marcie helped slut julia out of the traces and lay her out on the track. A screaming voice caused her to turn. Trustee brenda was standing alongside her swinging her whip.
“You stupid slut,” she screamed as she brought down the whip. “You cost me the race!”
As trustee brenda raised her arm to once again strike the helpless slave, time seemed to go into very slow motion for slut marcie. In the time it took for trustee brenda to bring the whip behind her head to full striking position, slut marcie had considered what she had to do– and what she would have to suffer.
“Now or never,” slut marcie said aloud as her arm shot out and intercepted the striking whip just above trustee brenda’s hand. Taken by surprise, the trustee lost her grip on the whip and slut marcie pulled it from her hand.
“You lost your own damn race!” slut marcie screamed and she struck out with the whip. “If you knew how to treat a pony, they would have won for you.” She struck out once more before Sarge’s arms closed around her, trapping her arms against her waist.
Trustee brenda looked down at the bright red X which had been imprinted across her abdomen. Slut marcie had been very accurate with the whip. Each half of the X began exactly at a nipple and crossed over to the top of the hip.
“You will pay for this,” she screamed. “I will love watching you get flogged.” She stopped to catch her breath. “My only regret,” she screamed directly into slut marcie’s face, “as I said before, is that it will be Commander Mueller, rather than me, who flogs you.”
She then stood in front of slut marcie panting heavily. The entire racetrack was deathly quiet. Commander Mueller’s voice broke the silence. “Bring her here,” he said in a quiet, but obviously angry, clipped voice.
Sarge effortlessly lifted slut marcie off her feet and carried her a few steps up the track so he could set her down in front of the reviewing stand. He stood behind her continuing to hold her fast.
Commander Mueller took a deep breath and said loudly, “Set up the flogging pole.”
Moments later, several of the camp staff came running onto the track with what looked like a small telephone pole. Others were carrying what looked like an overly-large wooden Christmas tree stand.
“Bind her,” Commander Mueller said quietly after the pole was firmly in place in the stand.
Sarge carried slut marcie over to the pole and set her down facing it. “Arms above your head,” he said firmly and slut marcie did so.
There was a soft rope hanging from the top of the pole. Sarge quickly wound it around slut marcie’s wrists and arms in a complicated tie which formed a very solid restraint. The last part of the tie took all slack out of the rope and slut marcie was pulled taut.
“Spread your legs,” he said next. When she did so, he tied each ankle to one of the support braces from the stand which formed an X on the ground beneath the pole.
Slut marcie was now restrained in the classic lambda flogging position.
Commander Mueller walked out onto the track and stood alongside her. “Slut marcie,” he began, “you have struck one of your betters.” He paused as someone rushed out to him and handed him a microphone. He held the microphone up to his mouth and began again. “Slut marcie, you have struck one of your betters. Such a serious infraction as that is punishable by flogging. Since you used a whip on a better, the punishment is thirty-nine strokes.”
He walked around so that she could see him and then continued, “You have a choice to make. You can accept this punishment and continue your training at a reduced rank. Or you can choose to exit the boot camp. If you choose to exit, you will receive the standard five swats with a leather paddle from each of the other members of your squad.”
He again paused before adding, “I think that I should tell you that because your current rank is that of slut, even though you wear the white of a potential trustee, you would be reduced to slut zero. And I am afraid that would be for the rest of your boot camp.”
He waited for several moments before asking, “What is your answer?”
Slut marcie mumbled something softly, but the commander could not hear what she said. Leaning in close to her, he let the microphone drop to his side.
“I said, indigo palace,” slut marcie whispered.
Commander Mueller’s body stiffened, but no reaction was evident on his face. He looked down for a moment to find the switch on the microphone and shut it off. Then he said softly, “What did you say?”
“Slut gerard,” she whispered back, “has a message for you. It is time to open the doors of the indigo palace, but they must be opened in secret.”
“Do you know what this means?” he asked.
“No,” she answered. “I am just a messenger.”
“No,” he said. “Do you understand that despite the message I still have to flog you?”
“I knew that before I took the whip away from that sadistic bitch brenda,” slut marcie replied.
He looked at her for a moment or so as if weighing possibilities in his mind. He then turned his microphone back on and said loudly, “After a little discussion with me, slut marcie has decided that she will accept her punishment and the reduction in rank to that of slut zero.”
One staff member ran out onto the track and handed the commander a multi-strand flogger. He swung it several times slowly, untangling the straps of leather so that they hung properly.
As he swung the whip, he smiled and said, “In a way, this is our wayward slut’s lucky day.”
After the buzz and murmuring died down, he continued, “A few months ago, I attended a very interesting program by a man who bills himself as ‘The Whipmaster.’ Part of his act was his demonstration of how proficient he was with the flogger. He claimed he was an expert because he could give two dozen proper blows with the flogger and never break the skin.”
He swung the whip so that it spun in a circle. “Today, I am going to see if I can best him and deliver thirty-nine strokes without breaking the skin. It might be a little less powerful than my usual, but I assure you that slut marcie will feel each and every blow and will be bright red from the top of her back to the bottom of her legs.”
He then made a gesture to someone near the grandstands and said, “Put the protectors in place.”
As thick leather belts were being placed around slut marcie’s neck and lower back, marcie found herself smiling. In the back of her mind, she could hear trustee yvonne’s voice, “It’s the best I could do.”
Commander Mueller’s voice rang out, this time without the microphone, “Sarge, you will keep the count.”
Slut marcie tried to prepare herself. The natural inclination is to tighten up everything in preparation for a blow, but the best way to endure is to relax and let it happen.
The first blow landed like liquid fire across the top of her shoulders. The leather protector which held her face against the pole, protected her neck, so the fire strangely stopped exactly at shoulder level.
She could clearly hear Sarge’s voice call out, “One,” as she screamed as loud as she could.
The fire wasn’t really that bad, but if the commander was holding back, she had to make it look like he wasn’t.
The next blow was slightly lower on her back. Again it was liquid fire, but those thongs which struck skin already reddened by the first blow were a hundred times hotter.
Again Sarge called out the number, and again slut marcie forced herself to scream. She felt herself tremble as she realized that if the commander slowly worked his way down her body with the whip, he would reach her feet at about the tenth strike. That meant he would go over the same area at least three times.
By the time the count reached fifteen, slut marcie was no longer forcing herself to scream. The liquid fire was turning white hot. Her scream was becoming nearly continuous, pausing only when she needed to gulp in fresh quantities of air so that she could scream again.
Finally, deep in the mist that now surrounded her, she heard Sarge’s voice call out, “Thirty-nine.”
“Take her to the infirmary and then back to the barracks,” she heard Commander Mueller say and then she let the blackness of unconsciousness overwhelm her.