Training Rose 7: Cannes to Las Vegas

(story continues from Training Rose 6: Dressage)

Part 7: Cannes to Las Vegas

"What on earth did you want to go and do that for!" Daddy demanded as I stepped down from the podium, or what was left of it after it collapsed when I did my victory jump, to a faint ripple of polite applause with my Cannes grand prix winners gold medal around my neck.

I had just won arguably the worlds most prestigious pony-girl event the Cannes Grand Prix outright and yet still he still found cause to criticise me, he really was impossible.

It was bad enough that the third place girl got a bigger cheer than me, well everybody got a bigger cheer than me, to be honest, and no one really seemed to want to have anything to do with me after I changed from my pony-girl uniform of leather bridle, gag, arm clincher and straps, which showed my boobies and sex to perfection and instead changed into my lovely sparkly posh white frock which cost me a small fortune.

"Daddy!" I exclaimed, "Mummy, what are you doing here?" I gasped, there they were standing together, being civil to one another, it seemed unreal.

"Keeping an eye on you," Daddy explained, "What on earth possessed you," he asked, "For heavens sake Georgina, winning, whatever next?"

The flippant answer was the "World Series" at Dreamland near Las Vegas USA, but well better not to rub salt into the wound.

"It was my fault sir!" Tom Warrinder my boyfriend and trainer piped up.

"Don't be absurd!" Mummy exclaimed, "This has Georgina stamped all over it, nobody, nobody at all can begin to match my daughter for deviousness!" she ranted, "And your entry is fraudulent, you're not a proper pony-girl you're a trainer for heavens sake!"

"Mummy just because I won and you never quite managed it." I sniped.

"Oh you're impossible," Mummy gasped, "You know what this means don't you?"

"What?" I said as I became increasingly exasperated.

"I had a bet with your mother." Daddy chuckled, "I bet her a diamond that you would win."

"Right? and if I lost?" I asked.

"No Georgina, it's what I agreed if you won," Mummy said, "If you lost I got a diamond, thirty thousand pounds worth , if you won, dear do you see?"

"Yes, what!" I demanded.

"He gets me!" she said dejectedly, "Oh yes, I agreed, a sure bet."

"Mummy, you win both ways!" I said naively.

"Oh you have a lot to learn, Georgina!" Mummy explained, "He said like the old days the party, do you see."

"Oh Mummy!" I chuckled, "Did he say tacked up!"

"It's not funny!" she snapped.

"Oh but it is, it's priceless!" I chuckled, "Absolutely priceless!" I thought, "Daddy, can I lead her in?"

"No," Mummy insisted which rather made up my mind that I would indeed lead her in.

I imagined the scene, I had to I hadn't been allowed in before because I hadn't been eighteen the previous year so I couldn't go, but I knew that leading to the ballroom there was this magnificent marble staircase and two galleries one above the other with tables raised up above the level of the dance floor along both sides of the floor with a stage at the far end for an orchestra, all presented in gleaming Marble in the Italianate style.

The trouble was do you see I didn't really fit the bill, they wanted a nice compliant, soft, hopefully rather dim but beautiful submissive, and to be honest I wasn't any of those, although Tom often told me I was beautiful, so maybe one out of four?

"Georgina, really I should lead you in." Tom insisted.

"Nowhere in the rules does it say that!" I reminded him, "You escort me, you in Tuxedo and me in a nice stylish gown," I explained, "No tack, no leading in, no sex with half the judges. No." I said very firmly, "No!"

"Just for the first half hour," Daddy suggested, "Then you can change."

"Yes Georgina, please," Tom asked.

"I'd appreciate the moral support," Mummy suggested, "You and me, and that Monsieur Gauchmont is rather dishy."

I nearly threw up at the thought of Gauchmont but decided I couldn't let Tom down.

They wore me down, and so instead of my ball gown there I was being tacked up, oh yes, arms secured firmly in a brand new Fosdyke and Earl black leather clincher, a shiny new black leather corset pushed my boobies up, my blonde hair flowed like a mane through the ring at the back of my brand new bridle, my new boots clopped in the approved manner and just to be sure I insisted on a crotch belt, pulled tight into my pussy, to stop anyone with wandering penis trouble from penetrating me uninvited.

Mr Rathbone of Fosdyke and Earl had personally fitted me with the new tack, my own tack had been cleaned so often their Logos had worn off so when they offered a complete new deluxe personally tailored set if I'd wear it to pose for photos at the ball, well I couldn't resist could I? It was worth thousands and personally tailored, no messing with adjusters for a perfect fit, well, what's a girl supposed to do?

I found out later Daddy set the whole deal up and he got a second set of standard tack for Mummy and a thousand pounds worth of horse riding boots for himself out of the deal as long as he could guarantee some first rate photographs of me with the winner medal and with the Fosdyke and Earl logos prominently displayed..

So there we were Mummy and I, in a bedroom set aside in the Hotel as a changing room getting tacked up with Daddy and Tom's help ready for them to lead us out.

I was comforted by the crotch belt, although it did rather irritate where it rubbed my clit, especially as I walked and particularly as Tom led me and I stepped carefully down the long staircase to the floor of the ballroom.

"And our Champion English Rose," Mr Gauchmont bellowed my nom de competition, "Rose Giles! Medammes et Monsieurs."

A tired ripple of applause changed to a rapturous reception as guests realised I was actually tacked up and essentially naked and not hidden in a ball gown as I stepped carefully down the stairs into the ball room. It was great wearing the combined bit and gag I decided, it meant I didn't need to make small talk with pompous boring Frenchmen.

"And our three medallists" M.Gauchmont announced "Please a round of applause,"

A handrail had been erected at the edge of the stage in front of the top table, a waist height handrail, presumably for us to bend over and I just knew I had been conned again, but there isn't an awful lot one can do while tacked up, a swift kick in the testicles being probably the most effective but Tom was keeping well out of the way and Daddy was very sensibly keeping even further away.

"And Ladies and Gentlemen, we have Caro Mio our fourth placed pony," M.Gauchmont's voice boomed through the loudspeskers as he did his compere thing, "Bronze medallist Resenbalm, and Silver medallist Argonaught's Daughter," he said in his heavily accented French.

"And Medammes et Monsieurs, nous avez, ah we have the Coup de Cannes, the special directors prize," he continued, my heart sank, oh my god, "Pour la," he said, "The best orgasnischer display, open to any pony dressed in la uniform de CPC."

They planned it, Resenbalm, Cario Mio, and Argonaught's daughter, would have a play off for a big prize, except I had turned up as well.

"Any pony in CPC approved tack?" A familiar voice asked, Daddy, Daddy was asking and Mummy was tacked up, although he had just pushed her head down to keep her hidden.

"Mais oui!" M.Gauchmont agreed, "Mam'selle Rose will not take part is that correct." He asked.

"Oh no," Daddy exclaimed, "Melton Stud will enter English Rose and," he paused, "Melton Stud Lady!"

Mummy tried very hard to kick Daddy in the testicles, very very hard, but he was a wily customer and he had her measure although she did kick several Frenchmen and an elegant French woman in a stunning red gown who promptly kicked her back.

There must have been fifteen hundred people watching either sitting at tables raised above the dance floor, or on the chairs around the periphery, or simply standing on the dance floor watching as Tom led me to the raised platform and undid my crotch strap, he took me to the left of the three waiting pony girls, while Daddy dragged a far from willing Mummy to the right and wrapped her reins around the rail in the same way Tom secured mine.

Tom stepped neatly out of his trousers, folded them neatly, then he stepped from his Y fronts folded them neatly and placed the Y fronts in his trouser pocket and hung the trousers neatly over the rail, he really was exasperating, what's wrong with showing some enthusiasm and just leaving them on the floor? Oh yes, he folded his socks and put them in his shoes, but at least he took his socks off unlike M. Heinkel, or was it Herr Heinkel, Resenbalm's trainer who kept his socks on.

"En Garde!" M.Gauchmont "ordered, "Et Un, Deux, Tois Commencer!"

I felt Tom's hands at my breasts, his breath on my neck and I braced as I leaned over the rail provided, "Good Pony!" he whispered, "Now don't cum too soon," he had the nerve to say, "I love you Rose," he said stating the obvious and getting my name wrong in one short pointless statement, but I had a nice warm moist feeling and my nipples tingled pleasantly enough and there was this void that needed filling so I made myself a bit more comfortable, and sure enough Tom eased his cock between my moist lower lips and filled the void nicely and oh did his nice warm muscular cock feel good, I almost regretted missing the tie break.

I looked around the ballroom, its two tiers of viewing galleries with tables, one above the other, I looked at the spectators who were watching me and the other girls, Resenbalm, Caro Mio, Argo, and beyond my Mummy, "Lady," but there was nothing Lady-like about Mummy, Daddy was riding her like she was in the two fifteen at Kempton Park, poor Mummy, she would be forty next birthday, competing with girls half her age, she was sweating already, out of condition I decided.

"Rose, stop gawping." Tom ordered, as three thousand eyeballs homed in on Mummy "Haven't you seen your parents fucking before?"

No of course I bloody haven't, I thought but what could I say with the bit gag in my mouth?

I gave Tom a little squeeze to reassure him as a photographer moved in for some close ups and hopefully some cum shots and then suddenly there was such a commotion, gasping grunting, "Oh Georgina I love you so much," Tom gasped and suddenly ages before I was ready, he started to twitch and throb and then he was flooding me with his hot wet cum.

"Ohhhhhh Georgina, Georgie I looovvvveee you." he wailed, and then he just flopped down on my back leaving me rather frustrated and uncomfortable as he pinned me down against the hand rail as his penis shrank and his cum oozed out of him.

Daddy by contrast kept bobbing away at Mummy for another quarter of an hour, people were getting bored and Tom suggested to M.Gauchmont they should get the band to play "God save the King," as he always stood to attention for that.

"He is already at attention!" M.Gauchmont replied with that typical gallic stupidity that passed for wit.

Finally Daddy came, Mummy appeared to have at least three orgasms before Daddy spurted but I was sure they were just showing off.

Gauchmont had two cronies to help him judge the performance, Marcel Rouen and Gaston Saleine so when Daddy finished we waited for the decision, rather uncomfortably in my case as Tom's spunk oozed down my inner thigh towards my lovey brand new boots.

They announced the winners with a drum role, "For the best Orgasm our winner is," Gauchmont announced and paused while the drums rattled in a crescendo of pointless rattling, "Thomas Warrinder!"

There was a huge roar of laughter, the whole point of the competition was that a girl was supposed to win but there was no doubting that he really had put on the best display much to Daddy's annoyance.

Tom actually went to get his prize without putting his trousers back on, how embarrassing!

"And the judges special prize goes to," he paused, "Melton Lady!" the crowd provided ripple of applause but by now they just wanted the band to start so they could get drunk and dance without any worries.

I looked at Mummy as Daddy untied her and took her to get her prize, she looked absolutely livid, but I really don't know who was more cross, Mummy at winning or Daddy at Tom winning, or perhaps Daddy at losing or maybe Caro, Resenbalm or Argo, or their riders, in any case they left us tied up, at least until Tom came back with his prize, "Look Georgie," he said, "I won something."

It was almost a relief when a swarthy Frenchman started to grope me, "Excuse Moi." Tom said and decked him with a very neat upper cut to the jaw using his left hand, "Unfinished business."

This time it was long and slow and loving as he slid inside me but we stopped the band from setting up because we were in the way, but it was very satisfying and when M.Rouen asked, "Will you bugger off please?" in his best English we obliged him and Tom took me for a bath.

Daddy and Mummy were standing by the steps as we came back down, I had my red ball gown on, the one that goes over the left shoulder not the right and keeps losing it's shape and letting my boobies pop out, Daddy was making the most of Mummy he had her tied to the handrail at the bottom of the staircase and was selling access to her for five hundred Euros a time, and of course when I challenged him my left boobie popped out.

"Daddy," I pleaded, "Please!" I said as I tried to get my boobie back in and keep it in and then I noticed this stupid grin on Mummy's face, and the state of her straining nipples and the wetness glistening around her vagina, "Oh my lord she loves it doesn't she?" I exclaimed.

"Yes," Daddy agreed, "Anyway, it's easy money."

Mummy tried to glower at me but she had this slightly dreamy look of someone who has had too much sex and still wants more, and I had to admit she did look very fit for her age, even if it was nineteen years since she retired from competitions, so clearly swimming, jogging, sun bathing, drinking Campari and being screwed by relays of Spaniards and Frenchmen was a good keep fit regime for a total slut.

It was what attracted Daddy to her in the first place, her father had all the trappings of wealth, but without the wealth, and allegedly for a bet Daddy he had somewhat reluctantly invited the young apparently virginal ice maiden Silvia Montcrieff to a hunt ball one evening, while the equally reluctant Mummy had been ordered to go by her own desperately cash strapped mother who saw Daddy as a cash cow if Mummy could get pregnant.

So Daddy plied her with drink to get her in the mood, and she tried to stay sober so she could seduce him and somehow next morning they found themselves waking in a deserted barn fully clothed and frustrated. Apparently a search party found them around six next evening, having spent the greater part of the day screwing.

Of course they had to get married but Daddy couldn't handle the pace of sex seven or eight times a day, and Mummy just wanted more so when I was three, just after Daddy's Daddy died and left Daddy his estate, and debts, they went their separate ways, Mummy to the Riviera with the cash from selling Daddy's London home, and Daddy went to Melton Villa with Ella my nanny and her DD cup brassiere, and me.

I mixed I mingled, "What do you want to do now?" a bored looking swarthy balding Englishman asked.

"Well, I have a Cannes Grand Prix medal," I said, "I'd love a Monaco Grand Prix winners garland to go with it."

"There is no Ponygirl Grand Prix at Monaco any more," he said.

"Formula one silly," I explained, "My instructor said he never saw anyone brave enough to try the complex flat in fifth at Silverstone except me."

"What happened?" he asked.

"Barrel rolled three times, the tyres weren't up to temperature," I explained, "I'm going to have another go when he gets out of hospital."

"Oh no don't get involved with Georgina's motor cars," Daddy said, "She starts off flat out and finds her limits by crashing, the Lambourgini dealership banned her after she blew up a Murchilago on a test drive bouncing off the rev limiter for ten miles at two hundred miles an hour while complaining the limiter was set too low, she bent all the valves, it was valve bounce it didn't have a limiter."

"Daddy" I complained, "You're embarrassing me!"

"Oh well, we don't have any opening's at present, perhaps when Jenson retires," the balding swarthy Englishman explained as he escaped my clutches.

"Don't you dare drive for Ferrrari," Daddy said, "I'll disown you."

"Stop criticising my driving, I'm just unlucky," I explained, "Anyway you should be pimping Mummy out or whatever you call it."

"Tom's doing that, put your breast away Georgie, everyones looking," Daddy ordered.

"It just pops back out, I might just as well leave it out," I explained.

I had a really good time, several people mentioned modelling and I talked to a guy about Aerobatics which sounded like fun until he said he wanted me to do wing walking for him, well stuff that, and then it was back to our own hotel where Tom fell into an exhausted sleep while I wished I had brought some spare batteries for my vibrator!

Daddy was nowhere to be seen at breakfast so I went to find him, "Daddy," I called when I found his door locked and a Do Not Disturb sign hung on the door knob, "Are you in there?"

"Just," gasp "A minute," gasp "Georgina," he replied.

"Daddy, do you have a woman in there?" I asked.

"Well he's hardly turned gay has he?" Mummy answered.

"Daddy are you screwing Mummy," I asked incredulously but he was, he opened the door a few minutes later and there was poor Mummy, still tacked up except her bridle and bit.

"Sorry Pumplin something came up." he apologised.

"Mummy," I protested, as she lay there essentially helpless with her arms bound.

"Yes dear, your father has gone all romantic I fear, he spoon fed me cornflakes and strawberries for breakfast, and then announced I still owed him six hours of Pony play, I won't be able to walk when he's finished." she said but she was blushing and trying not to smile.

"Oh well, enjoy yourselves, Can I borrow the Bentley?"

"No, categorically not," Daddy insisted.

"But tomorrow is registration day at Uni!" I pleaded.

"Hire something, something slow," he suggested knowing even among companies who hired to under 25s I was blacklisted just because a Fiat 500 engine blew up when I was driving it.

"I'll drive," he said, "After Lunch." but he didn't, because after lunch he announced "I think I'll stay on a day or two Pumpkin, now you be careful with the car."

I was very very careful, although Tom said "Slow down, Georgina," about once every twenty seconds, and he even put his hands over his eyes when I had to use the hard shoulder to overtake some slow moving trucks, "Your doing 160," he said several times as if he couldn't believe it.

"That's kilometres, about seventy five really," I lied and the poor love believed me, I nearly got 200 down a bit of a slope but some fool in a Ferrari got in the way, and Tom went on and on about fuel mileage and how we would go further in less time if we went slower and didn't stop so often, an old head on young shoulders is one thing but not a ninety year old one on a nineteen year old please.

As the song says, Girls just wanna have fun!

We had to stop at a service area and Tom got all masterful and said he was driving, Ha! .

Well I didn't argue, but when we set off again it was embarrassing, we were being overtaken by Ford Mondeos and BMWs, anyway I decided to have a little wank to relieve the boredom, it was one of the reasons I wore a simple white miniskirt and tee shirt with a lacy thong and bra, I suppose it was cruel when I licked my ring finger first and slowly and deliberately moved it down to between my legs, eased my thong aside and shouted, "Mind that Tanker!" as Tom's attention wandered.

"Tom watch the road please!" I demanded.

"You bloody little tease," he snapped, "That really is below the belt,"

"Oh did I give you a stiffy," I sighed as I leaned across to give him a blow job, of course in fiction I would have gobbled all his creamy cum down my tight throat or something but in reality there is a big centre console with a J shift gear lever right in the way, well when it's in Drive it's in the way, anyway, so I had to use my fingers.

I don't know why men can't multi-task, I've often had a wank while driving the VW Golf on the Motorway while I chatted to a friend on the mobile phone, but Tom, oh dear no, I barely touched him before he closed his eyes and swerved across two lanes, "Tom!" I gasped, "Try and concentrate."

"You really are impossible!" he accused, and he stood on the brakes like an idiot, thank god for ABS or he would have flat spotted the tyres, anyway everything missed us somehow and he pulled onto the hard shoulder.

He tried unsuccessfully to stuff his erection back in his pants and stormed around to my side which was of course towards the traffic where he just grabbed me and ripped my thong right off and wrenched me around so he could get at me and did the deed right there in full view of passing traffic.

It must have taken all of thirty seconds and then he was twitching and pumping me full of the nice creamy spunk he should have given me the previous night instead of snoring while I lay awake with my Vibrator running half speed because the batteries were flat, but it was a nice gesture and there certainly was plenty of it.

Poor Tom looked drained afterwards as I slipped out from underneath him, wiped myself on a wet wipe and scurried round to the drivers side, "You just rest," I suggested,

I think we were doing a hundred by the time he got both feet inside the door, and about one thirty before he got the seat belt on, "Are you Ok darling?" I said sarcastically, as we took our rightful place bullying everyone else out of the fast lane with plenty of use of the headlight flasher and horn, it was even nicer when I asked Tom to wipe me because I was leaking his cum, Oh, I think I actually got wetter but it was a wonderful feeling.

Of course "Le Shuttle" was an anticlimax, then the crawl through Kent and the M25, now that was definitely Tom territory while I had a lovely sleep in the back seat, and then before I knew we were back at Melton Villa.

Daddy and Mummy were there before us, he chartered a Lear Jet, from Marseille to Northolt can you imagine? Hiring a Lear jet and not inviting me along? I could have had a drive.

"Mummy!" I demanded, "What are you doing here?"

"I lost another bet for that damned diamond." she confessed, "It seems I'm here for the week."

"Oh Mummy!" I gasped, "You are careless."

"Actually Darling," Daddy announced, "Lucy Rosenbalm, that's Cecille Rosenbalm's mother, you know "Resenbalm" she got Bronze, well after Cannes she challenged your mother and I to a little wager, it seems there is a seniors tour at Vegas, and well, we need the practice."

"Daddy!" I protested but it was hopeless and Mummy sat down to dinner in her full tack except her bridle and made Daddy feed her, it was disgusting, yuck and I wished I had thought of it because she certainly seemed to enjoy it when Daddy licked up the spills from her breasts.

"Isn't this concentration on sex taking away from the ethos of pony girl competition, the purity of form," I waxed lyrically, "The human form shown in its full animalistic beauty the..."

"Bed, Gerald!" Mummy butted in as I spoke eloquently about the purity of the pony girl ethos, and half way through the sweet she simply ordered Daddy to bed and Daddy rushed round to pull her chair out like a love-struck puppy.

"It won't last Mummy" I warned.

"No dear, but it will be fun while it lasts." Mummy announced.

"What shall we do now Georgina," Tom asked as the disappeared towards the bedroom. I despaired what a question, then he continued, "There's not much on TV shall we have an early night?"

"How about you cover me in chocolate sauce and lick it off." I suggested, he must have thought it a great idea because before I could stop him he had grabbed the wrong jug and covered me in beef gravy.

"I meant get naked first," I explained as I looked at my ruined silk blouse, "And that's gravy not chocolate sauce."

"Oh Miss Georgina, you are a clumsy girl," Mrs Grimes exclaimed a few moments later when she came to collect the dishes.

"It's all right, Tom thought it was chocolate sauce." I explained.

"My Cedric always said mint sauce went well with pussy," she recalled, "I should do it here on the floor and save getting the sheets messy," she suggested, "I'll pull the door up don't worry"

"Shall we?" Tom asked, I didn't reply I just peeled off my top, and saw my bra was also soaked and before I could react Tom was licking the gravy off my breasts, he was like a little Yorkshire Terrier or something but it was nice and then as Mrs Grimes suggested we made use of the floor.

The next morning we were back to reality with sign in day at University, boring, and what was worse I realised there were some better athletes there than me there when I went to see about joining the Athletics club, now that is not funny, I do not like not winning, but it wasn't too bad, especially when I found they were fair weather athletes, brilliant in the sunshine but on a typical British summers day of torrential rain they just sat around the clubhouse talking about men.

I preferred to just get out there and train, my time with Henry Bryant on Saddleworth Moor made the discomfort seem a mere triviality, although it was frustrating to finish a run and shower and dress without a celebratory fuck.

Tom did his best, but it wasn't the same when we had to wait until we got home.

Oh I forgot Mummy, Daddy handed her over to Tom to train, poor Tom, poor Mummy, lucky Sonia. Silvana and Evie were long gone but Sonia (Miss Farque) and Sandra, Harry Wallace's daughter that Henry Bryant wanted me to train and Dessie and Sabine and Marmon were still in training with Dot Channing, so Daddy had plenty of opportunities for a gallop, but it meant I had to share my boyfriend's cock with my Mother, arrrggghhh.

I was really cross, but at Uni I knuckled down to learn all about law, like three one hour lectures a week which wasn't exactly onerous, did a bit of training on the track, miles mainly, signed up for a half marathon, that sort of thing between cracking the whip literally at home.

We set Mummy and Sonia to pulling the log cart, Dot and I thought it was a brilliant idea, Daddy was livid which served him right.

Las Vegas was awkward, I needed a few days away from my University course, but a few quick runs around the athletics track caught the eye of the coaches, either my speed attracted attention or it was my boobies when I ran in that damned uplift bra, anyway whatever it worked.

"Georgina, you certainly have a talent for distance running," Mr Houseman a balding once successful 1500 metres and steeplechase athlete told me as he struggled to keep up with me on the last lap of a mile run, he only did the last 400 as well!

"Oh," I lied, "I didn't realise, I have the chance to run in the States in a few weeks time, half marathon," I lied again, "If I can get agreement to miss lectures."

With his help it was more or less a formality which was almost worth the constant accidental gropes and inappropriate touching he subjected me to, ten days away from lectures we agreed and luckily no one asked too many questions about which half marathon it was, but just my luck there was a half marathon only about seventy miles from Vegas in some mountains, more cross country or steeplechase but like anything "Vegas" there was a big prize for the winner, so the trip seemed kosher, especially when I pointed out my win in Yorkshire.

The only problem was the Half marathon was on the Sunday before the Pony Event which was the following Tuesday, not a problem, I am blonde remember, "Oh I got the date wrong but I've booked the flights now!" I pleaded, so I had no acclimatisation, arrive Saturday run Sunday and then over a week apparently stuck in the States, luckily with a big display of contrition, and being blonde I got away with it.

Mountains, it set me thinking and as Daddy had friends in horse training country near Broadway in the Cotswolds, I spent several evenings running up what felt like the side of a house but which was a horse training gallops on the side of a Cotswold hill, and then even worse running back down, bone jarringly quickly, and no, pulling the log cart single handed up the slope to Melton Villa while tacked up was not in any way useful training, but Daddy still insisted on it, although I suspected with Mr Dighby "With an H" and Filcourt-Smyth and Dennis Lothian all being invited "For Drinks!" while I was doing it was all connected with the fact that Daddy desperately tried to keep it a secret that "English Rose," was actually his own daughter.

Things got horribly hectic, poor Tom hardly got to see me and my vibrator started making nasty noises like it was seizing up and then suddenly I was at Heathrow queueing for the obligatory forty something lesbian to strip search me, something which blonde hair and a half decent figure inevitably causes these days and then it was a deep vein thrombosis class seat with no free upgrade on a twenty year old Jumbo with the inevitable stench of vomit and urine that is transatlantic travel in this post Concorde era.

Luckily the in-flight movie was really boring, it could have been "When Harry met Mr Bean," for all the notice I took of it and thank the lord, I slept almost all the way there.

Daddy and Mummy met me off the plane, as did Tom, which was very strange as they had dropped me off at Heathrow, Lear Jet again, I suspected. Apparently Dighby wangled them seats on his friend's Lear Jet and Daddy pretended I had already flown out for acclimatisation so they saved the two hours queueing at each end and flew in luxury, typical.

"Ah Pumpkin" Daddy said when he met me at Mccarran, (Mc Carran?) airport, Las Vegas which was always ominous, "I've arranged accommodation for you and Tom."

"Good, I just need a good soak." I agreed.

"Not quite five star," he said apologetically, and he wasn't kidding, it was trailer on a trailer park.

Now Daddy's logic was that if sex was made very uncomfortable it wouldn't happen but well, I hadn't seen much of Tom and it didn't take long to discover that the seats folded down to form a bed, that the walls were paper thin, and the other residents incredibly nosey.

We got down to business as soon as we got rid of Daddy, I had Tom well trained, he was instructed to check my pussy for moisture, and only if there is no moisture to try foreplay. Well of course I was absolutely soaking!

I just drew the drapes, stripped off my damp panties and adopted the position, somewhat like a Gymnast, legs spread as wide as possible, which had Tom looking like he was hung with a cucumber and he just slid his glorious warm penis straight into my sopping wet vagina to fill that void in me which so desperately needed filling and then he set towards quenching the fires which he found burning there, rather too energetically I fear.

"Hey what you guys doing in there!" someone shouted before Tom had even got properly into his stride.

"Playing Scrabble!" I replied sarcastically as I felt the earth move.

"Well you be careful," he said.

We should have listened, because it wasn't the earth moving, it was the trailer moving on its jacks and just as I was really wound up and needed release the damned jack thing slipped off its concrete pad, and crunch, the earth moved, literally moved, vertically, straight down about two feet, Crash!"

It didn't really matter, we just shifted around so we weren't head down, and carried on.

We woke about noon our time the next day, just in time for Daddy to collect me for the race.

"Oh, you had a good rest I see." he announced, as he peered at the trailer still tipped forward at a strange angle and tried to work out how to get into the doorway now some three feet off the ground where the back end had come up as the front went down. We solved the problem when Tom and I moved to the back because it crashed back down level and without a word Daddy handed me a new tracksuit.

You would not believe the number of Logos he had stitched to it, it weighed a ton, stitched, stitched up again I decided but it was too late to do anything about it and after a really healthy meal of a Big Mac and fries, we climbed into Daddy's hired Escalade and he drove along the four lane highway and then down a dirt track in his infuriatingly careful way to deliver me to the start among the foothills of the Nellis mountain range.

I signed in, did the briefing, "Watch for rattlers!" was the highlight and then with no enthusiasm what so ever I lined up with the rest of the runners and thats when it dawned on me that half the runners were guys, just one race. Great. I should have got Tom an entry.

I set off at my usual speed, the route seemed reasonably well marshaled, but it was dirt and steep, and narrow very much like the hills near Broadway, so by the time I found some space I was fourth, ok I couldn't actually live with the power of the men up the punishing hills but neither did I appreciate the danger of falling into a nest of rattlers or worse on the down-hills, so I absolutely flew rushing past loads of apparently timid hunky Americans, phew was it ever exhilarating anyway thirteen miles later I was still fourth when I crossed the line and I just flopped down and peeled my sopping wet, sweat soaked track suit off top off.

"No!" Daddy shouted, "Show the Logos, the sponsors Logos!" I really could have throttled him.

Maybe he should have had Fosdyke and Earl tattooed across my tummy, I didn't dare suggest it, he would have thought it was a wonderful idea.

Luckily there was a separate podium for girls, although with their butch features and spiky US Marine Corps hair do's you would have been hard pressed to realise the second and third place girls were not guys, but at least it made me look good!

The guy presenting the trophies certainly seemed much more interested in kissing me as he presented the award than he was in kissing them and then by way of anti climax immediately after the podium ceremony Daddy suggested "Right lets get you to McCarran for the transfer."

"Why?" I gasped as I realised I just wanted to sleep for a week.

"It's all arranged," he said, "Just a short hop to Dream Land."

I should have known that if Daddy was involved "Las Vegas" would prove to be a patch of Desert Scrub not the Entertainment capital of the world.

In fact it was going to be every bit as bad as I thought, worse in fact.

To be continued.

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05.10.13

story continues in Training Rose 8: Supreme Champion

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