Naia doesn't lose, but still gets thrashed

The student coach blows a whistle to mark the start of the race and thirty two talented tongues simultaneously assail the same number of soon-to-be soaking twats. The women being pleasured all react to the stimulation in their own way, as much as some try to hide it. One contestant who makes no attempt to conceal her arousal is a middle aged brunette wearing a floral maxi dress, third from the right, riding a defender.

"Oh, my God, oh, my God! Oh, my FUCKING GOD!" She repeats the mantra over and over at increasing volume, bound legs quivering visibly. It causes some amusement amongst the spectators, but you think it might be counterproductive to let her rivals know how intense she's finding the experience, not to mention the possibility that her shouts could distract them and help them last longer.

A tanned brunette in her thirties, who was one of the ones playing with her mount's titties earlier, is now massaging her own considerably smaller mounds, instead. Despite her best efforts, she can't resist grinding her crotch on the face of the black cheerleader lying beneath her and moans quietly, eyes closed. To be fair, most of the riders are making some sort of noise.

An older, grey-haired woman has her head thrown back in ecstasy, seemingly unconcerned with the race aspect of proceedings, merely enjoying being pleasured, although others appear to be struggling more than she is. A raven-haired forty-something in a denim button up dress over a white shirt is groaning and trying to pull away from the ministrations of a tanned teenager you fail to recognize from this angle, straining against the straps, whilst a younger blonde in sleeveless green top and pink miniskirt is clenching her fists so hard she's bound to have nail marks in her palms tomorrow.

Naia is doing slightly better, pretty mouth open, gasping for breath and hands resting on their backs on her thighs, as though she's trying to meditate. Her delightful bosom rises and falls in a black bustier, but not nearly as much as that of her neighbour, an extremely well endowed woman with mousey hair in a loose bun, whose face is flushed with arousal.

Barely thirty seconds into the race, a slender blonde teenager, with an attractive body but disappointingly plain face, starts to squeal and tries to push away the gorgeous cheerleader concealed beneath her navy skirt.

"Nooo, stop, please," she shrieks, "it's too sensitive," but the cheerleader continues relentlessly and the orgasmic blonde twists and turns, completely failing to wrest her tender clitoris from the lips (or possibly teeth) of her tormentor. She's carrying a cane, but you know that the spanking for being the first to cum is traditionally given with one of the heavy coaching paddles.

You don't notice any of the attendees reacting to her loss and conclude that not many had backed her to win. The other younger contestants also seem to be struggling, a blonde in her early twenties biting her lower lip hard and a girl of Arabic descent, perhaps five years older, yanking on her curly black pigtails to distract herself. Now that the threat of a spanking has passed, though, some of the women are not trying quite so hard to hold back. A black woman being cheered on by her son and pregnant daughter in law is humping the face of one of the students roped in at the last minute, whilst the ginger forty year old riding your student Johanna has one hand in her white blouse, ostentatiously playing with her right nipple.

Others are taking the contest more seriously. An olive skinned brunette in her fifties is muttering to herself and you realize she's counting backwards in multiples of seven. An Asian girl about twenty-five is staring straight ahead, mouth pursed and panting rhythmically, a bead of perspiration on her temple the only indication of how difficult she's finding the situation.

As the seconds turn to minutes, the first to cum is still begging for the stimulation to stop and the increasingly voluble groans and moans of the other contestants' arousal are being drowned out by the growing animation and anticipation of the crowd. The next to fail is the redhead riding Johanna, but far from trying to get away, she screams in release (much to the delight of the spectators) and presses herself more firmly onto your student's mouth, seeking another climax.

In fact, she's the next to cum, as well, clearly multi-orgasmic, followed by the loser, who's equally clearly not. This seems to open the floodgates, with one rider after another crying out in pleasure. Amelia, one of the few cheerleaders you know by name, brings a waitress sponsored by a local restaurant to climax, then an older redhead squirts all over the midfielder pleasuring her. Two more go out, loudly and passionately, then, surprisingly, the backward-counting brunette.

The woman with the pregnant daughter in law cums soon after, the cheer from her family leaving you unsure whether they wanted her to win or lose, then there's a brief lull. You're sure the grey haired lady is on the edge, but she impresses you with her self control, because five more orgasm loudly, including the lip-biter and fist-clencher, before she finally groans in satisfaction.

Like most of the contestants, she seems quite content to continue being licked after her climax, although a few, including the waitress and an older woman in a pink knitted hat and cardigan, are finding it uncomfortable to the point of pain. The vocally religious participant is still going strong, her strident voice audible even over the hubbub of the onlookers.

You snag a glass of bubbly from a passing waitress and sip it while half a dozen more drop out. Johanna's rider is on her third orgasm, approaching the fourth, when three middle aged women cum almost simultaneously, one of them the big boobed neighbour of Naia, then the brunette in the denim dress finally succumbs after struggling from the very beginning, collapsing forward with exhaustion so that her head is resting against her mount's sopping twat.

"Down to the last eight," you observe to nobody in particular, but the young man Josh corrects you.

"Only seven. That girl, Nur, came a little while ago, though she's not showing much sign of it."

You're impressed that not only did her notice her climax when you did not, but also remembered her name. She's still gritting her teeth and hauling viciously on her pigtails, but now you look closely, it's obvious that the skirt of her black dress is soaked with her juices where she lost control.

"Oh, my FUUUUUCK!" The uncomfortably loud woman finally succumbs, but unfortunately, rather than silencing her, it merely changes her mantra to oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. Naia's whole body is shaking, tears of frustration running down her face, but she's not the next to fail, that being the determined Asian whose concentration you noticed earlier. The orgasm is not particularly powerful, but unmistakable and from the fact that she bursts into tears immediately after, you think she really wanted to win.

The first heat is down to five. Amazingly, the brunette who started grinding her cunt on her mount within seconds of the race starting is still in, the youngest after Naia. The others are a flushed blonde in her late fifties staring blankly at the sky, a Mediterranean brunette of about forty five in a black sheath dress who's been calm for most of the race but is now starting to squirm and a platinum blonde maybe a couple of years younger in a sharply tailored grey skirt suit, who's panting with lust and pinching her nipples through her sheer white blouse.

Many of the contestants who went out early have had or are approaching their second orgasms of the race, but of the five still in contention, Naia is the next to succumb, her heroic resistance worn down by expert cunnilingus, her beautiful body writhing in unwilling fulfilment. She proves to be another with an overly sensitive quim, because she starts squealing and trying vainly to escape as soon as her climax is over. A groan from all around the stage confirms that she had many supporters.

The oldest and youngest of the remaining competitors cum loudly in quick succession, leaving only two. Since there are two automatic places in the final, their order doesn't matter, but they're concentrating so hard on not climaxing that they don't realize they're already through and it's maybe another half a minute before Lorelei eventually manages to bring the brunette in the sheath dress to a powerful squirting orgasm that leaves her drained to the point of exhaustion. The reserve goalkeeper pleasuring the smartly dressed blonde finishes soon after and Robyn blows the whistle once more to signal the end of the first heat.

The ladies who found post orgasm stimulation painful sob with relief as they're spared further torment, whilst most of the others sigh with disappointment that it's all over, but all this is drowned out by the cheers and applause of the crowd congratulating the winner, who just about has enough strength left to smile and wave.

Whilst the participants were restrained by the waitresses, they're joined by quite a few volunteers from the audience to help release them, meaning they're freed in a fraction of the time. About a dozen need to be carried off the stage, but the rest make it under their own steam, including the lovely Naia, who gingerly hobbles over to her waiting parents. The overall loser, of course, remains on the stage. Robyn announces the name of the guest who bet the most on the failing blonde and invites him up to give her the traditional ten swats, but there's a slight disturbance before he can claim his rights.

When Naia reaches her family, her mother slaps her face sharply and the gasps from the people nearby attract your attention. Thus, you're looking in their direction when her father orders her to strip naked. The sobbing beauty complies and her papa loudly declaims that anyone who bet on her is welcome to give her a dozen with her cat o'nine tails for failing them. The whip is quite light to be described as such, but a dozen lashes from everyone who wagered on her, many no doubt to very sensitive parts of her anatomy, will nevertheless be quite an ordeal, not to mention the tipping. There's understandably a rush and as a result the actual loser's not going to have quite the audience she might expect to having her bum turned purple by the coaching paddle. However, you don't suppose she's too disappointed by this.

It turns out Josh's not going to watch the paddling, either, but for different reasons. He tells you he wants to give some last minute advice to the girls he's supporting and you wonder exactly what he could be going to say. With only half the guests, at most, watching the stage, nobody will notice if you want to do something else before the next race.