The Widower

  Marie reached for a small hand held walkie talkie she had in her pocket, whilst walking towards a door on the far side of the room. John heard part of the conversation before she disappeared through it. 'Vicki, can you bring the training....'

'You don't look...the type to be training ponies, John.' Luci called out as she carried on round and round.

John took a gamble. 'I'm not. But I was married to one of the fastest ponies this place ever produced.'

'Yeah? You're a dark horse, John.'

'So are you, pony. How does an American end up here?'

'Oh, I came to the UK to windsurf. Waited around Newquay to get the best of the conditions, but misjudged how expensive things were. I swear I was going to pay her back, but I guess my roomie wasn't too pleased I borrowed her credit card.'

John moved closer to the circle of Luci's movements, seeing how her hair was starting to hang wetly around her face, how the sheen of sweat was now showing beads that ran from under her arms, and off her chin. 'So you were given a choice, deportation or here, correct?'

'Yeah. I've been a bit wild in my past, seen a few Folsom Fairs. Thought it would be a better thing than being put on the first flight to JFK. Didn't know it would be...'

'Quite so dull.' John interrupted her sentence. He could see Marie at the door again, who had paused a minute to listen to the conversation. 'I've made a bet with Mistress Marie that you couldn't beat one of her best ponies...'

'A bet...what sorta bet?'

Marie walked in now, holding a harness. 'A race. One thousand pounds, I believe. He thinks my pony Joanne will beat you pulling a cart across the moors. I reckon you're faster than that.'

'And what do I get?'

'Marie smiled. 'If you win, you get orgasms my dear. I know you want one. I can see the proof running down your thighs' She was right, John thought, seeing Luci's inner thighs wet with more than just sweat. 'And you get out of this place. Out of your cell, into more comfortable surroundings.'

"And if I lose?'

'And if you lose, I get to whip that insolent little hide of yours.'

-*-

Dinner that evening was lively.

'I can't believe you"re going to go through with this.' Vicki was more incredulous than angry, but she still wasn't happy. 'What makes him the expert now?'

'Vicki, I wasn't certain about this myself, until I saw the results this afternoon. She worked harder than she has done since she got here, once she got the training cart behind her.'

John nodded. 'She certainly seemed to put in the effort.'

He thought back to the afternoon. They had put Luci in the training harness, a simple wide belt that the shafts of the cart could be hung from. They had put a bit in her mouth, which Luci accepted surprisingly easily, then attached her to the cart, cuffing her hands to the ends of the shafts. They walked her over to the running track then, and had her run laps, over and over, until Luci was dripping with sweat, her chest heaving as she fought for her breath.

'There is one fly in the ointment, you realize, don't you?' Vicki had a serious look on her face. 'She could win..'

Marie smiled. 'No. It'll be the first time in a real harness, pulling a racing cart for Luci. It's not easy. Joanne had the advantage of knowing the route.' The smile grew wider. 'And we'll make sure, by adding weight to the cart, and having John drive it'

John nearly spat wine across the table. 'Me? I don't know how to do that!'

'No, you don't, so you'll do a bad job of it.' Vicki was amused by this idea.

Marie gave Vicki a significant look. 'Vicki is right, you don't know how to do it, but this looks like an ideal time to try.' She sipped at her wine. 'You're not going to say no though, are you? The idea of a pony under your control has quite an allure now, I bet?'

John was still surprised by the suggestion. 'Surely you're going to give me some training as well?'

Marie nodded. 'Here's the idea. Vicki takes over the training of Luci tomorrow.You and I work with Joanne, and you get the crash course in pony driving!'

John smiled wryly. 'Do you have to call it a crash course?'