Shetland Pony Club

*

A couple of weeks later, while Kirsty was in Aberdeen again, I got an email one evening from an unknown sender. The subject line was 'Another once in a lifetime experience?' The message directed me to 'Take a look at...' a specific video clip on an internet porn website. Whoever sent the email wanted to make sure it didn't end up in my junk folder. There was no embedded hyperlink, but it was easy to copy and paste text into my browser to access the site and the clip.

I hesitated a moment before clicking on the play arrow.

The video started with a group of around a dozen men dressed as Vikings and cowboys standing with their backs to the camera. They were all yelling at someone or something in front of them. The camera quickly moved between a couple of them to reveal the lower half of a naked woman lying on a table getting vigorously fucked by one of the men standing at the table. The camera was focused on the genitals of the copulating couple, as his condom covered pole repeatedly pierced her pale pussy. The soft vulnerability of her bare stomach and neatly trimmed brown bush contrasted with his hard prick and the armoured breastplate that he wore.

Cowboys on either side held the woman's legs up as the Viking battered into her and the gang of men enthusiastically spurred the couple on. The Viking's pace quickened and then he suddenly stiffened, his prick fully engaged as his balls emptied and he roared triumphantly. As the Viking withdrew his prick to reveal a reservoir full of cum, the cowboy next to him dropped his trousers, revealing a sizeable erection. The two men changed places, then the cowboy rolled a fresh condom onto his prick and started fucking the woman. Beneath the tumult of the men's shouts the woman could faintly be heard as her grunts of satisfaction matched the rhythm of the cowboy's strokes, then the video abruptly ended.

Did I recognise that neatly trimmed brown bush? I'm sure there are plenty of bushes like that, but I had always joked with Kirsty that a bird with a bush is worth two with your hand. She found it amusing that I preferred shrubbery to masturbation, so she didn't ever shave down there. The bush in the video was her style. Could this be a video of what she did that night in Lerwick? My heart was sinking.

I wondered if the email had come from Marie. She had shown me the picture of Kirsty getting fucked by Donnie in the dunes, so maybe the video was her doing. I tried calling Marie, but there was no answer, so I left a brief message, asking her to call me back as soon as possible. For all I knew Marie was busy 'working' with a client.

When Marie eventually called back it was nearly midnight and she sounded tired. I asked her straight out whether she had emailed me information about a video clip on the net.

"Not me," she said. "What's the video?"

It sounded like Marie had no idea what I was talking about, but I decided to ask her a couple of questions. "It looks like a gangbang with Vikings and cowboys, possibly in a big meeting room of some sort. Any ideas?"

"It's most likely the old boatshed. Some of the guys end up there, after they've been round the other places. The boatshed party starts after one in the morning and goes on until about five or six o'clock. Things usually get a bit wild."

"How wild does it get?" I asked.

"Alcohol lowers people's inhibitions and there's no shortage of testosterone at Up Helly Aa, so there's always plenty of flirting at the after parties. Most women tend to avoid the old boatshed. It's an odds on bet that any woman who goes there in the wee small hours will be knickerless and well fucked before the night is over. Donnie always goes, but I only ever went once, years ago. I get enough action without having to give it away free of charge to a bunch of drunken Vikings."

By now I realised Marie was unlikely to have sent me the email, but I had a good idea who did.

"I thought it was bad news when I saw the video," I replied. "It's mostly close up action and you can't see any faces, so I can't be absolutely certain, but I think Kirsty was there and Donnie filmed her getting gangbanged. We lost touch with one another around one in the morning and she didn't get back to the guesthouse until hours later."

"I'm sorry to say this, Kenny," she replied. "It's probably time for you to make up your mind about what you want to do. Face the facts. What's done is done. No use crying over spilt milk. Either you accept it and adapt to the circumstances, or you decide you've had enough. You're comparatively young and there are plenty of women out there who would appreciate a man like yourself."

"You're right," I said. "I have some decisions to make and thanks for spelling it out for me. I'm sorry I couldn't keep a closer eye on Kirsty. Somehow I feel like I'm partly to blame. I hope she hasn't caused a problem for you."

"Don't worry about that," she said. "For a while I thought she was serious competition, but that's because I couldn't see the bigger picture. I know I warned you to keep a close eye on Kirsty and I'm tempted to say I told you so, but the odds were stacked against you from the day we met. It would have been almost impossible for you to keep her from temptation."

I found it difficult to understand why Marie's attitude seemed to have changed. She was pretty much unfazed by what Kirsty had been up to, empathising with Kirsty while I was struggling to cope with feelings of anger, hurt and betrayal. Before our conversation ended I asked Marie why she no longer thought of Kirsty as serious competition. All she said was, "I'm not worried about Kirsty now I know what's been going on. We're both playing for the same team and she's just one of the girls."

Having had my suspicions more or less confirmed about what Kirsty had been doing behind my back at Up Helly Aa, I thanked Marie for taking the trouble to call me back and wished her goodnight.

*

Someone had sent me the video clip to stir up trouble and now I had only one suspect on my list. But why would Donnie Larsson want to cause a rift between Kirsty and me? From what I could understand, whatever Donnie had going with Kirsty was more about animal lust than love. It was far from a romantic affair, so why would he do this? If he wasn't in love with her, why did he want to split us up?

Without a strong emotional bond between Donnie and Kirsty, it was unlikely that relationship would trump the relationship I had with Kirsty. She hadn't left me and I was fairly certain she would prefer to avoid that possibility after so many years together. Her occasional trips to Aberdeen were supposedly for work purposes. However it looked like she wanted to have her cake and eat it, with a loving husband at home and a lusty lover in easy reach, while all the time denying there was anything going on. There was no way I was going to let her get away with that.

What was difficult to understand was if Donnie had something going with Kirsty, why did he want to bring it to my attention? Why didn't he keep it on the fly? I hadn't suspected Kirsty was hanging the horns on me, despite an obvious clue in the form of the outrageous horned Viking helmet sitting on our hall table. I was an unknowing cuckold and Donnie must have known it was in Kirsty's interest to keep me in the dark. Nobody needed to know what he was getting up to with Kirsty.

Judging from the episode in the sand dunes at San Tomas, Marie was quite content to let Donnie get an occasional bit on the side every now and again. It was only when we met up in Shetland that Marie had been annoyed or possibly even jealous of Kirsty. She thought Kirsty might make some sort of serious play for Donnie and she had wanted me to bring Kirsty to heel. I had expected Marie to be more than just annoyed with Kirsty by now, but her attitude towards Kirsty had clearly changed once again. What was it she had said? "We're both playing for the same team and she's just one of the girls." Marie was no longer bothered about whatever Kirsty was doing.

I slept badly that night, waking from time to time, my mind filled with a jumble of angry and confused thoughts as I tossed and turned restlessly. It took me the best part of the following morning and some online research to work out what seemed to be going on.

I know I could have taken the bait that had been dangled in front of me in the form of the video clip. Donnie wanted me to confront Kirsty, maybe to split us up, but I wasn't ready to play that game just yet. My research had led me to more or less the same conclusions as may have been intended by my tormentor, but I decided the outcome would be slightly different from what Donnie Larsson was trying to achieve.

*

David Shepherd was delighted to accept my invitation to dinner at his favourite restaurant the next time Kirsty was away in Aberdeen. I gave him all the information he would need to get the job done, including how to find Nessie. When he left that night, he was like a man on a mission. There was no guarantee of success, but David's shit slinging would definitely hurt Kirsty and might just be my best shot at bringing down a Goliath. David thrived on a diet of gossip, but I had provided him with a veritable feast. Here was a scandal that would be talked about for years to come and he had the special privilege of breaking the news to anyone who cared to listen.

In the meantime, while David revelled in spreading the word about all the juicy details of moral decrepitude, no fingers would be pointed at me. In return for providing him with exclusive access to verifiable information plus a cash incentive of five grand, David had given me his assurance that I would not be identified as his source. The information I had given him could have been found by anyone if they knew where to look, but it was by joining the dots and making the connections that a startling picture of what was going on would be revealed. With David on the case, to some extent I had plausible deniability, whether I needed it or not.

*

A couple of weeks later, Kirsty told me she would be working from home for a while. I was in touch with David Shepherd and he told me she had been temporarily suspended, while the company conducted an investigation, using information they had received anonymously. What puzzled me was that Kirsty looked more pensive than worried, but I was satisfied she no longer had any need to go to Aberdeen on business. I was waiting to see what would happen next and my own plans depended on what she decided to do.

One evening I came home from work and Kirsty nervously asked if we could talk. I had been expecting this and was prepared for a frank and open discussion. Kirsty had no idea how much I knew and I wondered how she would try to explain what she had been up to. I fully expected she would confess to some or all of her sins, but I didn't think it would be a genuine "Come to Jesus" meeting, because forgiveness was unlikely to be immediately forthcoming as far as I was concerned.

Seated comfortably in our lounge, I waited for her to initiate the conversation.

"I'm not sure how to put this," she started off, her hands clasped together tightly while she avoided my gaze. "You know I've been working in Aberdeen quite a lot?"

"Yes," I replied, "but I thought that was all over and done with."

"Not really," she said, hesitantly. "There was a problem, but it's actually turned out to be more of an opportunity. The only slight snag is it means I will have to spend a bit more time in Aberdeen." She looked me straight in the eye and then continued, "In fact I'll be there from Monday to Friday every week from now on, but I can be here at the weekends."

I was almost lost for words, as I realised what she was telling me. I had been expecting some sort of confession and it turned out her agenda was one of continued deceit and disrespect.

"Hang on a minute," I responded. "Are you telling me you're moving to Aberdeen?"

"Not permanently," she said. "Just during the working week for the foreseeable future. I will be home at the weekends, so it shouldn't be too much of an upheaval," she said.

"I don't get it," I said, with no attempt to hide my incredulity. "I was thinking you'd finished with whatever it was you were doing in Aberdeen."

"Yes and no," she replied. " This is actually a new business opportunity. I will be working for a small start-up business in the service sector, with plenty of potential."

"So you're still going to be in a financial management role, doing all that money management and investment advice stuff?" I asked.

"It's slightly different, because it's mainly asset management and income generation," she replied, smiling at me.

"Managing assets and generating income?" I asked, trying to keep a straight face.

"Yes," she said. "That's it in a nutshell. I had a few weeks to think about it and I've quit my old job."

"I'm puzzled," I said. "You worked for those people for years, then suddenly you drop them like a ton of bricks. Seems a bit strange. So how much notice did you have to give?"

"None. I had a meeting with HR and we were able to reach an agreement for immediate termination of my contract of employment on the basis that they paid me in lieu of any notice period. It's more or less standard practice when anyone with access to confidential files or sensitive information quits their job. The company wants you out the door as soon as possible."

"Well then," I said. "You've obviously made up your mind. I hope it works out, but you've chosen a very challenging path. Are you sure this is what you want to do?"

"Yes, Kenny," she said. "I admit it's going to be a challenge and there might be a few problems, but this is something I just have to do. I feel I can't turn it down and walk away. I would always be wondering about what would have happened. If it doesn't work out I can always find another job, but this particular opportunity is probably for a limited time only and I have to take the chance."

There wasn't a lot more to be said, so I went upstairs to change into casual clothes while Kirsty got on with making our dinner.

*

Kirsty wasted no time and left for Aberdeen the next day. That evening, the story I got from David Shepherd when we met up in a local pub was slightly different from Kirsty's version.

"She was suspended on full pay at first, but then she was called in for a disciplinary meeting with HR and terminated," he told me. "The reason for her immediate dismissal was evidence of conduct that could bring the company into disrepute. Of course it would have been possible for her to appeal, but she was offered a hefty payment in lieu of notice. It was large enough to make an appeal more or less irrelevant. In other words, she got paid to go away, because the company needs to avoid any possibility of adverse publicity. From what I heard, in return for her silence, she also received an assurance the company would not disclose whatever evidence they held about her unacceptable conduct."

"Thanks, David," I said. "I take it that means she will still get a clean job reference and she stands a good chance of getting another job in due course?"

"Yes, right now that's the case," he replied. "The staff have been told she resigned to pursue other opportunities, which is the usual euphemism when both parties agree not to divulge the true reason for termination of employment. Rumours abound, including a story about ill health, but very few people know why she left."

"I know it's difficult to resist the temptation to tell some of your colleagues what has been going on," I said, "but I need to give her a last chance before things get out of hand. Please remember we agreed not to press the 'destruct' button unless there's no hope of getting her to change her mind. It won't be long before we know how it's going to play out. I'll keep you updated and I expect to be back in touch sometime next week."

*

It wasn't too difficult to get a dinner date with Lucy. The description posted by the escort agency on social media claimed she was 'a management executive in her late thirties, an attractive mature lady with long black hair and a healthy complexion, who enjoys fine dining and socialising'. Lucy was evidently 'available to provide companionship for businessmen whatever the occasion, from drinks after work to formal dinner parties and corporate events'.

The agency took payment of the upfront fee by credit card, which gave them traceability. Fortunately I was able to persuade a colleague to let me pay him to use his credit card. He understood my problem and was willing to let me usurp his identity on this particular occasion. Just to be safe, he would get his bank to issue a replacement card after my date with Lucy.

The Great North Eastern Hotel in Aberdeen is a favourite with oil company executives. Centrally located, with easy access to all of the granite city's local amenities, the hotel's restaurant has a good reputation for classic Scottish dishes, using locally sourced fish, seafood and Aberdeen Angus beef. I wasn't sure if Lucy and I would stay for dinner, but I had reserved a table for two just in case.

She was right on time and I watched as the maitre d' summoned a young waitress to take her coat and scarf to the cloakroom. She was wearing a knee-length dress in imperial purple that clung to her, subtly displaying her curves as she stood and waited for the maitre d' to give her his full attention. She hadn't yet seen me, sitting in the shadows of one of the cosy little dining alcoves along the far wall of the restaurant. Having followed the maitre d' across the restaurant, she was at the table before she saw my face.

Like a deer in the headlights, she froze for a long moment, surprised and confused. She glanced anxiously at the maitre d' as he held a chair and waited for her to take her seat. Hesitantly she sat down, her gaze briefly following the maitre d' on his way back to his station at front of house. For a brief moment I thought she would panic and run after him, but she knew the game was up. There were no hiding places. Not any longer.

"Good evening, Kirsty, or should I say Lucy?" I said when she turned to face me. "Simon sends his apologies. It's just you and me and I'm hoping we can talk over dinner and take it from there. Is that acceptable?"

"Yes, I suppose so," she sighed resignedly, her voice little more than a whisper as a waiter appeared and handed us menus and a wine list.

I ordered us Lone Wolf gins with tonic and the waiter scuttled off to fetch the drinks.

"I know you're surprised to see me here," I said, "but I wanted to see where you worked. I could have staged a nastier surprise, but that's not my style. The idea of airing our dirty linen in public doesn't appeal to me and I thought we could be more discrete."

"I think I've been very discrete," Kirsty replied.

"Really?" I said. "I heard your former employer took a different view."

The waiter reappeared with our drinks before Kirsty had a chance to respond and he took our food order. Neither of us was particularly hungry it seems, so we didn't bother with starters. I ordered a lightly wounded Aberdeen Angus ribeye and Kirsty opted for a small medium rare rack of lamb. It seemed obvious we could both use some wine to lubricate the difficult conversation, so I ordered a bottle of Australian cabernet shiraz to partner our food choices.

"What was the real reason you got fired, Kirsty?" I asked, once the waiter had departed.

"I didn't get fired. I resigned," she said.

"Fired, resigned, terminated, left. It's all more or less the same," I said. "The question is, why did they want to get rid of you?"

She gave a deep sigh. "It's complicated, Kenny, but it seems they found out what I was doing and they weren't very happy about it."

"That would be the business you were doing in Aberdeen, then?"