The Widower

John reached for his phone to check the time. 1am.

He couldn't sleep. Not after what he had seen that afternoon, and certainly not with how it had made him feel.

Marie had slowly and expertly whipped Luci. It was almost metronomic in precision. Stroke after stroke, working her way from Luci's shoulders to thighs and back up again, paying particular attention to Luci's backside. Each stroke distinct, letting Luci cry out and then steel herself for the next blow.

Painfully aware of how hard he was, John had walked around Luci to stand behind her, seeing the mess of welts grow on the American's back, until Marie paused, shook out her arm, and moved around to the other side of Luci, to repeat the process on Luci's defenceless front, until the tears were flowing down her face, mixing with the sweat that was running down her.

Marie had paused once more, wiping sweat from her own brow, and had cupped Luci's chin in her hand. 'Well taken Luci.... Even though this was a punishment, you took it well. That deserves something...'

With that, Marie had stepped back, and swung underhand up between Luci's legs, once, twice. On the third strike, John had watched, fascinated, as Luci snapped her head back, thrashing in her chains, as she literally exploded in orgasm, her cries almost animal.

He had made his excuses after dinner, heading upstairs to his room, before realizing he really needed to sit for a while and think, so he had headed downstairs again to grab a scotch. It was whilst he was in his way back to his room that he had come across Jane. He was in half a mind to order her to accompany him back to his room, but shook that thought off, as he wasn't certain he wouldn't do something he might regret in the morning.

He knew he wouldn't get any more sleep that night. He got up, pulling on the jodhpur pants and boots, but leaving off the shirt, grabbed his phone, and left the room.

-*-

It was a warm, moonlit night, and John found that after a while, he could do without using the torch on his phone. He worked way round the side of the house, to the stables and the courtyard.

He walked across the courtyard, his boots ringing in the still of the night, coming up behind Luci. As he got closer, he could see her stir, lifting her head up from where it had been, resting against one arm.

Her voice was a whisper. 'Who's there...?' John could hear the tiredness in her voice. It made sense that she wouldn't be getting much sleep the way she was chained.

He moved around in front of her.

'Oh, John...' she shifted in her bondage, trying not to slump quite so much. 'Couldn't sleep, huh?'

John didn't speak, just looked at the naked woman in front of him, seeing the strain in the muscles, the pattern of angry red weals that crossed her skin.

'You look like you've never seen a whipped woman before, John... I thought you said your wife was a pony.'

John cleared his throat. 'I've not, not in the flesh.' It sounded strange to say it, given everything he had seen in the last few days.

'My wife never told me she came here. This was her secret. I didn't even know this place existed until after cancer took her....'

'Oh wow..' It wasn't really a reply, more an exclamation.

'She left me a series of messages, notes and videos, telling me to come out here, to see this side that she never quite managed to show me when she was alive.'

'And?'

'I think I understand why she came here. She loved to run, but she needed to learn discipline in order to get the most out of that. A bit like you, I think...'

'Yeah? Maybe... Maybe not....' she shrugged. 'What about you? What have you found out about you?'

John looked down. 'I... I.... don't know...'

'Yes you do... I want to broken... And you, you want to break me, don't you.... Sir...'