Saraya's Bet - Chapter 1

On re-reading this, I noticed that I kind of borrowed an idea from Kanashii. Sorry, Lady K! But it's too much a part of the story to remove.
Here it is, re-published.

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It was early evening in the Brazilian countryside and the atmosphere was hot and buzzing. The town parade, a yearly festival the entire region looked forward to, was tonight. The big farmstead of Cavalo Preto was already half in party swing even just getting ready; the women were already dressed up for the night and many of the men were ready too. Noise, talk, banter, music, the sounds of horses and the smell of them and their leather and of smoke, all blended into a loud and festive atmosphere.

One of the riders, Miguel, a boisterous larrikin and well known fellow of the region, aged nearly forty, was warming up a large black Friesian horse of striking appearance, trying to get him into a rhythmic trot-dance; the horse was side stepping and snorting and dancing at all of the noise. Many of the horses going in the parade later would be rearing and bucking and there would be much laughter as their riders tried to get them under control (or fell off!)

Some of the guys and a few younger women sat on the fence around the little paddock, watching and calling out advice and jeering at their friend.
"He should throw your butt back where it belongs" jeered one older teenager. This caused much laughter around the ring.
"Yeah, that would be fun," called out one young woman's voice, strong and derisive and not entirely joking. "It's not like that's real horse dancing, anyways. I've seen my six year old nephew do it better!"
"Saraya!" hissed another girl, trying to shush her.
Miguel laughed, a deep rich laugh and turned the big Friesian to face the young woman who had baited him. "Really?" he said, apparently unpreturbed. He reined the big black horse and with a touch of his spurs, made it rear in front of her.
Saraya tossed her long dark hair and glared at him. "You do not impress me! The younger kids perhaps, but not anyone with half a brain! I agree with the boy - the horse should throw your butt in the dirt!"
"Saraya, you should not have had wine, it has made you mad, you know his family could call in your daddy's debt...!" hissed the other girl next to her. But too late.
Miguel's eyes darkened in his swarthy face, then they lightened and he let out a hearty laugh. "Maybe you can get what you want in both ways," he said with a grin. "Want to get rid of your debt, little girl?"
Saraya's eyes flashed with anger at being called "little girl", she was fully eighteen and thought very highly of herself, and was very short-tempered and stubborn as well. And she loathed this man for being part of the gambling scam that had gotten her family into debt.
"I am just as much adult as you are, probably more, and would welcome any chance to get rid of this debt which my family should never have been subjected to in the first place," she hissed.
"If you could win free of the debt by seeing me get thrown in the dirt as you apparently wish, my lovely, would you?"
"And just how would that be possible?" Saraya said with a sneer.
"Honey, you get to throw me in this dirt yourself, right here and now!"

All of the males who were watching laughed.
Saraya did not. "Is that another joke? Or do you mean it? I throw you, you wipe out the debt? As simple as that?"
"I mean every word," said Miguel with a grin. "You get down on all fours and I sit on your back. If you can throw me, as I know you wish to, I shall wipe out the debt. Everyone here has heard my words, so I can't go back on it."
"Saraya, don't!" hissed the other girl next to her.
But Saraya wasn't listening, she was loyal to her family and this sounded easy. She was stronger than she looked, and she was not some dumb horse, it should be easy to throw this annoying man off her back and wipe clear a debt that her family should never have been subjected to. The two glasses of wine she'd had earlier lent fire to her blood as she nodded.
"Then I accept! I shall enjoy making a fool of you!"
Miguel's black eyes flashed with amusement and fire and he held out his hand. Solemnly the dark-haired girl shook it.

"What about if she loses, Uncle Miguel?" laughed a sixteen year old boy from elsewhere on the fence.
"I'll tell about that in a moment, but I won't add to the debt too much," Miguel said with a smile. "I am always magnanimous in victory. I certainly won't ask her to make love with me, it would be like making love with a viper!"
"As if I would ever accept such an outdated, abusive proposal!"  Saraya snapped in response.

Miguel laughed. "You're about to be a lot closer to me than you would like," he said. "Get down off that fence, horsie girl. Time for our little ride." He handed the reins of his horse to one of the other guys.
Saraya blushed, realising that she would indeed have to let this hated man ride on her back in front of everyone. That was embarrassing. But it was the only way. She tossed her dark hair and threw off her little jacket, leaving her in denim shorts and a fitted t-shirt, and jumped down from the fence.
"It will be fun to see you in the dirt," she spat and slithered down into an all fours position, waiting.

Miguel surveyed her. She was one of the most gorgeous girls in the region - if not for her constant viper tongue and misplaced superiority and complete lack of warmth or humour, which had kept the boys away from her. Her body was firm and lithe, slender where it mattered, but curvy and ripe in all the right areas, and her thighs and shoulders looked strong like a dancer's. She looked rather wonderful on all fours, her back had an inviting, natural downward arch which also made her firm behind look even lovelier and more round, and he smiled at the anticipation of riding her.
He swung his quirt through the empty air as he stood beside her, making her jump. Then he swung one foot over - realising he still had his spurs on, and amused at the thought - and sat carefully down astride her back.

Her back bent a little under him and he lifted his feet up straight away, letting her feel his full weight, enjoying the feeling of him pressing into her, so close, fitting into the curve of her back, his legs around her, somehow the feeling was very intimate. The onlookers were laughing and yelling out amusing advice, but his blood was suddenly pounding in his veins at just how good this felt.

He was a strong and fit man, not overweight but definitely not feather light at 175lbs, and he could tell she could really feel it and that it wasn't as easy as she had perhaps thought, her breathing quickening as she held his full weight. He made no move to make it easier, his feet off the floor and his knees around her, and he gave an experimental little bounce. Her back flexed and rebounded a little under him.

"Well little mare, now you get to try to throw me, and if you manage it, I wipe all the debts. If not, I get to ride you instead of my big Friesian in the parade, an' you still owe me..."
Even distracted by the tough job of carrying his weight, Saraya blushed beetroot red at the thought. It would be utterly humiliating, everyone in the streets would be laughing at her and cheering him, she'd be a total laughingstock. She had to throw him!!

He wound one hand tightly in her long black hair, tightened his knees and thighs around her ribs enough to make her gasp, then brought his quirt down on her shorts-clad buttocks with a loud whack. Saraya yelped and lurched upward in a half rear, pulled and goaded both at once. Miguel leaned forward and dug his spurs into her thighs, not hard enough to cause damage, but enough to make her gasp and propel herself forward!

Whoops and catcalls sounded from the onlookers as the girl started bucking and lurching under him, trying to throw him off her back!
She soon discovered that simply bucking her back up and down was just producing an energetic undulating movement, which was very easy to ride. He clamped his legs around her and the quirt came down again, and she span, trying to make her body do what she'd thought she would be able to do, trying to leap and turn and buck in circles like the rodeo broncs. But his weight hampered her far more than she'd thought and he moved with her, making it near impossible to throw him, even when he wobbled he managed to stay on and regain control. His spurs jabbed her again, once, twice, almost as if to taunt her. The onlookers laughed.

Desperate not to lose, breathless, humiliated and embarrassed, Saraya slowed down and tried to make her brain think rather than just blindly reacting. What else could she do??
She tried rearing over backwards; this was stymied by Miguel throwing his weight forward against her upper back and shoulders so that she fell back to all fours instead and nearly went down. Then she tried charging forward as fast as she could - a very fast crawl, she didn't even think to try cantering - and then she stopped suddenly and dropped the front half of her body.
This almost, ALMOST worked. The man's weight shot forward along her back... but he managed to stop himself coming off and hauled himself back into position astride her.
Saraya bucked half heartedly a few times more, then stood still, panting, totally out of breath, her limbs trembling after the wild exertion with the weight of a grown man on her back. It had only taken minutes but she had no energy left, her muscles burned and her body longed to have the weight gone.
Miguel sat upright astride her, used her hair to pull her head up and back, and raised his whip hand victoriously into the air, to the whoops and cheers of the onlookers.