Aline's Great Quim-Hound Handicap

(this story continues the series starting with https://www.literotica.com/s/lady-aline and https://www.literotica.com/s/lady-aline-and-the-quim-hound)

The kingdom was abuzz with speculation, at least among aristocratic circles. The country's leading nobles, all of whom loved to boast about the superiority of their own quim-hounds (a highly specialized breed of scent hounds) in finding and retrieving their ladies, were generally fond of gambling. Once the idea of a direct competition to see whose quim-hound was the best had been raised, it rapidly gained support among those eager to place wagers, i.e., every noble in the country, and soon the King himself endorsed the plan. The royal couple would themselves oversee the event and lend their prestige to it, naturally with the Queen on the King's leash. This quim-hunting competition was going to be the most glorious social event of the season, and everyone who was anyone would be attending.

Although credit for the brilliant idea was naturally given to the heads of the great houses, the original concept had far more humble origins, namely the maids and attendants of Lady Aline. They had observed and correctly interpreted the stirring of Lady Aline's competitive spirit as she gazed at her mother Lisbeth's veteran quim-hound, Brutus, firmly leading Lisbeth on her leash past them back to her usual retrieval point, in one of their routine training exercises on the grounds of their mansion. Lisbeth's ripe, mature body jiggled as she was trotted naked on all fours (as always -- this was how aristocratic ladies in Aline's kingdom spent their lives), and Aline envied her mother's magnificently swaying bosom, with its dark, puffy nipples. Aline could only hope that her large but maidenly pair would grow to equal Lisbeth's proud bosom one day, after she had nursed children of her own.

Aline sighed, and looked over to her own heavily muscled quim-hound, Hercules, her pride and joy and her dearest playmate, dozing quietly on the grass. Looking back and forth between the much older Brutus and Hercules, she sniffed; she could not help but feel that her Hercules was far superior. He was definitely more famous now, thanks to his recent rescue of Aline and two noble friends from kidnappers. And, although Aline loved her mother dearly, one had to admit that the youthful Aline was far more athletic, or at least so Aline believed.

That was a significant consideration, Aline knew, since any long-legged quim-hound was far faster alone than any naked woman on all fours; the lady's own physical prowess was necessarily a limiting factor, regardless of the quim-hound's own strength and skill. (Of course, in theory the much more powerful quim-hound could just haul the lady across the ground by brute force, ignoring any obstacles, but that would result in far too much wear and tear on the lady being dragged.) A lady had to be able to keep up, more or less, with her quim-hound, as Aline had soon learned.

Lady Aline's maids were in the habit of making bets on how quickly Hercules could hunt down and retrieve their naked mistress's quim from wherever they had hidden it. Her senior maid, Betsy, grinned as an idea occurred to her. What if they arranged with Lady Lisbeth's maids to hold a quim-hunting competition? No doubt the other maids were equally proud of their own quim-hound's skill and their mistress's lush body, and would eagerly accept, but Betsy was positive that Hercules would win, whatever the stakes.

And so negotiations between the two groups of maids began, with Aline and Lisbeth learning about the plan only from overhearing the discussions among the maids standing over them, as the mother and daughter sniffed each other's genitals in a formal greeting. One of the maids did remember to ask Lisbeth directly whether it would be all right to race them, and Lisbeth nodded, smiling benevolently at her daughter. Her serene confidence in Brutus's abilities was apparent.

Maids always gossip with their peers, so soon word spread to other noble households about the exciting plans to match Hercules and Aline against Brutus and Lisbeth. The rumors quickly spread from the below-stairs staff to the noble families themselves, which naturally felt that their own quim-hounds and ladies were the best, and that if a competition were to be held, they wanted in on it! More and more were expressing interest in competing. The ladies in question were rarely consulted, but as far as anyone could tell, they seemed to share the same sporting spirit as their husbands and fathers, and would be happy to uphold the honor of their houses.

Aristocrats being what they were, Aline's and Lisbeth's maids were soon quietly instructed to drop their plans, because the nobles were taking over, and would make sure that the competition was done right. The maids were somewhat disgruntled, but were used to their betters' taking credit for everything, and comforted themselves with the knowledge that they could soon make bets on a much grander scale. After all, they had inside information, if anyone did!

Weeks of negotiation and complex multilateral diplomacy ensued, with each noble house vying for rules that would favor its own team (or teams, if a house had more than one noble lady). Would there be minimum and maximum ages for the quim-hounds and the ladies themselves, or would all comers be allowed to compete? It was soon discovered that no one wanted to be eliminated in advance, so the age range for the ladies was set at a generous 18 to 55 years old. Would pregnant ladies and nursing mothers be prohibited from racing? (No, for the same reason.)

The biggest stumbling block in these negotiations, of course, was how to calculate the betting odds. All the organizers and handicappers were used to dealing with horses, but none of them had ever figured odds for naked women and quim-hounds before. This was far more complicated, because they had to take into account the age, strength, fitness, skill, and experience of both quim-hound and noble lady, and figure out how to make allowances for pregnancy and lactation, not to mention women's mysterious menstrual cycles. The organizers eventually decided to pretend that for the purposes of sporting competition, periods did not exist. (The men were not comfortable thinking about menstrual blood anyway.)

There was considerable debate on how to account for the fact that women's bodies varied far more than those of horses. This was all brand-new territory. Was it fair to treat a long-legged, full-bodied woman the same as a small, slender woman? This seemed to be particularly a bone of contention for those who had short-legged, slender ladies to race. Fortunately aristocratic ladies tended to be bred for large breasts, so at least they were somewhat uniform in that respect; but there had been furious debates over how the oddsmakers should take into account exactly how much weight each woman was carrying on her chest. At least they were able to agree that lactating ladies' breasts should be emptied before being weighed.

And of course there was no performance data available on any of them, since quim-hounds and their ladies had never been officially raced before. Some informal efforts to gather intelligence did seem to be taking place; maids and other staff at various aristocratic households were getting a lot of visits from long-lost friends, some of them surreptitiously fingering stopwatches. Aline noticed a few such spectators during her training sessions with Hercules, but she just raised her chin and displayed her bosom proudly. Let them watch!

More concerning for her, and probably many other noble ladies, were the efforts of her maids to intensify her quim-hound's training in preparation for the competition by hiding her in new and interesting places, and even to set up physically challenging obstacles that she would have to climb over, or be pulled over, while being retrieved by her quim-hound at the greatest speed she could be forced to match. The improvised hay maze with low walls was a particularly bad idea, and had led to scratched breasts when Hercules had decided to just drag her over the hay bales instead of going around them. She had managed somehow, frantically climbing over the bales as Hercules pulled on her leash, but it had hardly been pleasant.

Sometimes the maids would vigorously scrub her genitals first, to minimize her scent and make it more of a challenge for Hercules to track her. That proved to be counterproductive, since it usually had the undesired side-effect of just making Lady Aline more aroused by their attentions to her quim. Fortunately, they had only a few weeks to get more and more creative with her.

Aline did realize that her maids meant well, and she understood that they had money at stake. Of course, her family's honor was at stake, too! She was gratified, but not surprised, to learn from the maids' talk that she was one of the favorites to win or place, though she knew that was mostly due to Hercules's fame.

Eventually the great day of the quim-hunting competition arrived, and hundreds of noble ladies were taken by horse-carriages along with their quim-hounds to a manor located outside the capital, with extensive and well-kept grounds, where a stage and bleachers for the spectators had been set up. Aline and her mother Lisbeth were led together with their quim-hounds to an open area in front of the stage, along with all the other competitors.

Glancing around, Aline could see many friends and acquaintances, and she looked forward to competing against them. Like her, they had been bathed and brushed, their hair had been elaborately braided, and their fingernails and toenails had been painted with their houses' colors; and they were wearing their finest collars and leashes.

The ladies and dogs all sat in pairs on the ground, with their handlers standing behind them, waiting expectantly for the King and Queen to appear. Some of them were calm, and some swallowed nervously. It was a brisk fall day, and rows and rows of erect nipples could be seen as the ladies shivered slightly in the cool air. (They would be sweating soon enough when the quim-hounds were running them back, of course.) The lactating mothers, like Baroness Carlotta, had already been milked in preparation, so everyone was ready to go. It was a splendid sight!

The quim-hounds themselves were mostly calmer than their ladies, though a few shifted uneasily at the presence of other dogs. Hercules seemed his normal happy self, though fidgeting and impatient to get started on hunting Aline's quim. Brutus, Aline saw, was stone-still, occasionally glancing coldly and contemptuously at the other dogs--all business, as usual. Aline hoped he would not handle her poor mother too roughly.

Finally, with a fanfare of trumpets, the King appeared, leading his golden-collared naked Queen on a leash to the front of the stage, where she sat at attention next to his feet and smiled out at the audience. Aline was pleased to see that Queen Mercedes heeled perfectly, with as much poise and decorum as if she had been leashed all her life. The Queen, an olive-skinned, plump-breasted, dark-nippled beauty with curly black hair, had been a Spanish princess before coming to this kingdom for her marriage.

The royal wedding, like most such weddings, had been preceded by lengthy diplomatic negotiations about reciprocal trade concessions, etc., which included a formal agreement that the Queen would adopt the customs of her new home. Surprisingly, Mercedes had reportedly had no objection whatsoever to stripping naked and donning a collar and leash, and it seemed to have come quite naturally to her; court life in Madrid must have been truly stifling for the former Spanish princess. She seemed perfectly comfortable in her new role, though Aline wondered how the Queen was taking to quim-hound training; Aline knew they did not have them in Spain, though of course they had hunting dogs, which was at least something.

The King looked out over the sea of naked feminine flesh interspersed with large hounds, and began by welcoming the noble attendees, and especially the lovely ladies preparing to compete in the first of what would hopefully become an annual tradition. The cool, damp air offered perfect weather for scent hunting and especially quim-hunting, he opined. The quim-hounds should be able to catch the ladies' scent easily! He regretted that his beautiful Queen was not participating, but made the excuse that he was not allowing it for fear that his loyal subjects would hold back to let the Queen win. He joked that he had already placed his bets on certain of the gorgeous ladies in front of him, but would keep them secret for now.

The King then explained for the benefit of the audience how the course was laid out. A sloping hill to the right, with broad wooden steps, would be the end of the course, down which the hounds would lead the ladies back to where they were right now; there was a grassy area at the top, and then another set of steps leading down the other side of the hill. The contestants would have to navigate these stepped slopes on all fours, of course. Beyond the hill was a combination of open fields for running flat-out, and various obstacles, including complicated hedge mazes and water barriers that the ladies and their quim-hounds would have to go through or around, at the discretion of the quim-hounds, of course.

Far to the back was a wooded area containing a variety of hiding places randomly assigned to the noblewomen who were participating. Those hiding places would be the actual starting point for the ladies. Once the ladies were all suitably concealed, the quim-hounds would be set loose to hunt them down, and race them back here as fast as possible.

Before the ladies could be led off, however, there was a certain pleasant task that needed to be completed! He explained that the organizers had decided that all the ladies needed to be equally sexually aroused, so that none of the quim-hounds would have an unfair advantage. The King therefore ordered the ladies to get on all fours, and from that position, to press their breasts to the ground and raise their buttocks. He then instructed the handlers to spend 15 minutes stroking their ladies' quims to arouse them as much as possible, without penetration.

This was an unexpected surprise, but Aline could tell from the gasps and moans she heard around her that like her, the other ladies were also enjoying the attention, and having a wonderful time. Her father, of course, ministered to her mother Lisbeth, while Aline's quim was stroked and squeezed by her eldest brother, with surprising skill (she wondered curiously who he had been practicing on; it better not have been one of her maids!).

By the time the 15 minutes were up, the ladies' freshly masturbated quims were definitely warmed up enough for them to be taken to their hiding places. Servants came and led them off in groups. Aline was in a group that left after Lisbeth's, so she could see how Brutus, still motionless, was not taking his eyes off her mother's dripping quim as Lisbeth was led away on her leash and disappeared from sight, her matronly buttocks rolling rhythmically. She just hoped that Hercules would be focusing on Aline's own quim at least half as well.

When her turn came to be led away on her leash, Aline, after a long brisk walk, found herself placed face down in a shallow hollow in the ground behind a tree, and partly covered with dead leaves, with her buttocks exposed to the cool breeze that would summon Hercules to her. She lay still, breathing deeply and slowly, and bracing herself to be jolted by Hercules into sudden motion.

She could picture how the quim-hounds back at the starting point were quivering with impatience (except for Brutus, probably), and how they would all explode into motion at once, baying in an eager cacophony, when the King called out the "Quim!" command they had been waiting for. It would be an amazing sight, and she half-wished that she were a spectator and not a participant. She prayed that Hercules would outrun them all, and she could hardly wait for the feeling of Hercules seizing her leash and jerking her to her hands and knees. It already seemed like she had been waiting for him forever.

At long last, she heard the baying of her beloved Hercules nearby, and resisted the temptation to rise from her hiding place, instead waiting patiently, ass still in the air. She had not heard any other hounds' voices yet; did that mean that she was the first to be found? Finally she felt Hercules yanking her leash. She rose quickly to her hands and knees, moving to follow her leash.

Hercules towed her in and out through the trees, and she somehow managed not to stumble over tree roots and fallen branches. The occasional smooth patch of pine needles was a blessed relief. Then they were out into a grassy clearing through which Hercules dragged her rapidly, forcing her almost to sprint on all fours through the long grass.

She was already panting and sweating, but the sweat, at least, was soon taken care of when Hercules mercilessly led her through a deep, cold stream rather than go around it. (She believed that they could have made better time by going around instead of struggling through the deep water, but then she was hardly the one making those decisions, was she?)

Next came a hedge maze, with Hercules dashing her around corners, this way and that, and occasionally backtracking, with her trotting along submissively, still wet from the water barrier and shivering, with her arms, thighs and calves quivering from exertion. Sometimes she scraped her sides or breasts against the hedge, and she winced with the pain. Finally he led her galloping furiously out of the exit from the maze. (It would later occur to her to marvel that a quim-hound had been smart enough to solve a maze while running. Hercules was of course wonderful, but just how intelligent was he?)

Her heart pounding hard, she frantically struggled to keep up with him as he led her across a field. She thought she glimpsed a flash of white buttocks far ahead of her, but they disappeared before she could be certain. She could hear other panting ladies and quim-hounds running only a little further back, and then Hercules and she were going up the flight of wooden steps, which slowed them considerably. She could barely lift her arms and legs at this point. The grassy area at the top of the hill was only a brief respite, before Hercules was dragging her stumbling and gasping for breath down the final set of steps, and over to the finish line, and finally let her have enough slack in her leash to collapse on the ground, to the sound of cheers, and a herald announcing their time.

It was a long while before Aline got her breath back and recovered enough to push herself back up, with considerable difficulty. She knew they must have made good time--and she was feeling the effects of every foot of ground they had covered--but had they won? She was astonished to look over and see Lisbeth already collapsed on the ground, her heavy breasts flung out to the sides and her strong thighs splayed, with Brutus calmly standing guard over her sweating body and holding onto her leash tightly. In striking contrast to Lisbeth, he seemed perfectly fresh, and showed no sign of exertion at all. Aline could see her mother's sides heaving violently as she drew in desperate breaths. Aline thought she could see furrows where Lisbeth's stiffly pointed nipples had dragged themselves through the dirt as she fell.

Brutus had somehow gotten Lisbeth here first! -- though from all appearances she was utterly drained. The veteran quim-hound was now staring smugly at the much younger Hercules. Brutus, still looking over at Hercules, slowly raised a heavy paw and slapped it down hard on Lisbeth's shapely rump, holding her down on the ground triumphantly (not that she showed any interest at all in rising).