The Widower

John took a sip at his beer, and glanced at the few people in the pub. None of them looked like they could be Marie, who had suggested they met at this spot.

When he had rung the number Lesley had left for him, he had been told that Marie was not available, but a message would be passed on. 20 minutes later he got a call back. Marie was still not available, but suggested meeting at this pub, in two days time, hence where he was now, waiting for her.

He'd spent some time looking at the images on the SD drive. Pictures of his wife in various forms of harness, with leather hoods covering the upper part of her face, or head harness arrangements that held bits in place. He saw how her arms were held back, wrists cuffed to elbow, or put into a leather sleeve, that looked like it was forcing her elbows together. These formed a series, and he could see Lesley blossom from the teenager to the woman he married. Marie was there as well, in a number of the shots, but after a while the pictures were only of Lesley.

There were a series of images called punishment and a number. Lesley naked and in chains, hair straggly and her skin dirty, doing menial tasks like sweeping out stables, or scrubbing at floors. He kept being drawn back to one image. A view from behind, Lesley's arms held above her head by chains that as ended out of the frame. Sweat was dripping from her, and her back from shoulders to knees bore the marks of what could only have been a protracted and heavy whipping.

He was nearly done with the beer when a tall raven haired woman came in, dressed simply in a white blouse and jeans. Even with 14 years since the last image he had seen of her, this could only be Marie, he thought.

He must have stuck out as a non regular, as the woman made a beeline for him.

He stood as she came closer. "Marie, I presume?:

She stuck out a hand to shake his. 'You must be John'

She looked around, and made a quick decision. 'I think we should go somewhere a little more private.' She nodded at the girl behind the bar, who came over.

'Sally, can you unlock the upstairs room for me? I need to have a quiet conversation away from eavesdroppers'

Sally nodded 'I can do that, Mistress. I''ll bring you your usual, and another pint for the gentleman.'

The upstairs room looked like it hadn't been used for a little while, but it was well appointed, and above all, quiet. Once Sally had given them their drinks, and left them, Marie shot the bolt to make sure they wouldn't be disturbed, then gestured to a pair of high backed arm chairs by the window.

They sat, then Marie spoke first. 'I know you have a lot of questions, John, but first of all, I need you to know I'm so very sorry for your loss.' She paused a moment, then carried on. 'Lesley was a dear friend, and for a while, before she met you, a lover as well. Did she have much pain, before the end?

John nodded. 'She wouldn't admit it, but I knew. The on demand pain killer started to last a shorter and shorter time before it needed to be changed, and she was able to stay awake less and less.'

He thought back to the last night, he stayed up with her, until she breathed her last. Only in death did her face relax again, only then did she look like she used to, even with the terribly thin face.

'She wrote me a letter a while back. She told you that you would be coming out here, and that I should answer all your questions.' Marie looked out of the window, then back at John. 'I'd normally run a mile from having to answer questions from someone who wasn't going to be part of the training, but I loved Lesley much. I couldn't deny her this.'

John took a big gulp of his beer. 'Well, you can start out by telling me exactly what the fuck this training is!' All the confusion and mixed emotions of the last few days were rising to the surface.

'I thought I knew my wife! She told me she came out here to clear her mind. I thought she was doing some odd meditation practice, but instead, I find out she's some odd fetishist, chaining herself up to train herself to exhaustion, punished even. What the hell is your role in this!' He was close to shouting by the end.

Marie looked over at him. 'When she came back from her trips here, how was she? Did it look like she had been coerced into coming here, or did she come back relaxed, with her energy renewed for the next few months?'

John was about to say something off the cuff, but he mentally changed gears. She was right. Lesley always seemed more... focussed... after one of her trios out her.

Marie noted the look on his face. 'If what she did out here did her good, then what difference does it make that what she got up to was what some people would consider deviant?'

'It makes a difference to me, damn it!' John took a deep breath, getting angry would help anything. 'I thought I knew my wife, I thought we had a great marriage, but now, on top of all of my grief, I don't know if I knew the real Lesley at all.'

Marie shook her head. 'John, the Lesley you knew, the Lesley you loved, came out of the training she had, out of the training we both had.' She leaned forward, emphasizing what she was saying. 'Without the training she had here, you wouldn't have known her.'

John laughed. 'Are you telling me that if she hadn't been whipped, she wouldn't have made it to University, to London, to that first date with me?'

'That's exactly what I'm saying!' There was a real snap in her voice now. 'Our Gym teacher back when we were still at secondary school was right. We both needed discipline in our lives back then, otherwise we were going to piss our lives away and never make anything of ourselves'

She took a deep breath. 'The training unlocked something in both of us. In Lesley, it unlocked a discipline, a drive, that took her out of here, took her to the big city, to a good career, and to a marriage that she was truly happy in.'

'What did it do for you? You never left here, did you?'

Marie looked him in the eyes. 'It taught me discipline. It also taught me how to apply that discipline, to bring the best out of others, to help them find a place where they can be themselves.'

Realization dawned on John. 'You took over the training, didn't you? That's why Lesley's collection of images don't show you after a certain point. You now run the training facility.'

'Yes, along with a friend who has also risen through the ranks, and trainers who help us both.'

John thought about Sally, the way she called Marie 'Mistress'. 'How many women have gone through this training?

'In the last few years, 20 or so. COVID was a problem, and slowed us down. Most ponies come back once a year for a visit, though some, like Lesley, come back more often.'

John thought a moment. 'What about the punishments? Is that part of the training?

Marie nodded. 'Usually, a new pony needs to be taught her place, punishment is usually applied at that stage.' She paused. 'Lesley, along with a limited number of others, insisted that one of her visits each year be what she called a 'hard' visit, when being punished was the focus of the visit, rather than the training.'

She could see that John was still having a hard time processing everything.

She stood up. 'John, if it had been up to me, Lesley would have told you everything you are now asking years ago. I told her that she should, and I don't know why she didn't. I'm going to offer you the same thing I told her to offer you. I want you to be my guest at the facility. Stay for a few days, a week, and see how the training happens, what it involves. Perhaps, ' she mused, ' that way, you'll get a better understanding.