[F] My experience of riding a wooden pony.

I was invited to ride a wooden pony. It was some kind a private show before a number of audiences.

It was an evening in May. I arrived the premises and was led to a garage. The center had been cleared and a triangular wooden pony was in the center of the clearing. There were already a few men and women there.

My heart was beating wildly and I was shaking slightly as I positioned myself next to the pony and waited for instructions. A man ordered me to strip. After I got naked I was instructed to climb over the wooden pony and stand over it. I could feel the wood slightly brushing the protruding flesh of my labia.

After standing over the wooden pony, my wrists were pulled behind my back by a man, and another man tied my wrists together with bondage rope.

Then they knelt below the pony, one on the left and another on the right. They bent and tied each of my ankle with a rope, and then loosely threaded the rope to a metal eyelet screwed into the wood on each side of the pony, behind where I was sitting.

My tied wrists were attached to another rope, which extended to an eyelet on the pony behind me. It lifted my wrists slightly away from my back.

There was a large wall clock on the garage wall, which I could see clearly. It said 6:55.

At 7:00pm exactly, the men pulled my feet out from under me. With a smooth pull, they lifted my feet backwards, so my knees bent and my legs pointed toward the back of the pony. They tied me ankle up to the side of the pony. No longer able to stand, I sat down hard on the solid sharp corner of the pony.

My ride had begun.

The first sensations were unremarkable. It was uncomfortable, yes… but not terribly painful. The edges of the wood dug into soft flesh a little. The pain was endurable.

The angle of my legs, pulled back as they were under the pony, had thrust my weight forward just a bit. I was sitting with more of my weight on my pubic bone than I had anticipated. I shifted back, moving my weight to my perineum. This helped a little. The softer flesh with less bone underneath took the weight a little better.

The men and women were sitting and standing quietly around and watching.

After a few minutes, my softer perineum flesh was becoming numb, with a dull ache. I pushed down on my legs, using the ankles where they were tied to the pony to help lift me. It helped a little but my legs were at such an odd angle, it was hard to stay up for long at all; it tended to push me forward more than up. When I relaxed and came back down my pubic bone pressed against the thin wood beam once again, this time more painfully. I began to make some noise.

It was hard to find a comfortable position. But it was still bearable.

I leaned back again, trying to take the weight off my pubic bone. The aching pain shifted with my weight to my vagina, then back to my perineum once again. A few men and women grinned at my discomfort and movements trying to find the best way to ride.

Time was not passing quickly. they placed the clock there where I could see it as part of the torture. I could look and see the seconds tick by, and it would make the mental agony more severe.

I pushed up on my legs again, trying to lift some of the weight off my groin. I succeeded but my muscles gave out after about 90 seconds. With my legs bent back and tied up to the pony it was too awkward a position to keep up for long. I was only able to get my pussy about a half inch off the pony but that was enough to provide some relief if even for a moment. I settled back down and rotated my hips forward, so that the pressure would concentrate more in my ass. At the same time I started to tip to the side and quickly regained my balance. My ankles secured to the side of the pony allowed me to keep myself upright, but it took a little effort.

I was struggling to stay upright. There was nothing to keep my upright, really, except for my own efforts and they were hampered by having my hands secured behind me. My legs were tied securely on either side of the pony, which allowed me to balance, but it was a constant struggle, my legs constantly twitching and pushing to keep upright. The audience seemed enjoying this part of the show. Not only was I slowly moving my weight back and forth to displace the pressure between my legs, my legs were straining to lift myself and to keep my body from tipping over.

It was dawning on me that there were aspects to this torture that I had never envisioned. Depending on the position and the restraints, I was forced to shift, wriggle, strain and pull myself in various directions. By spending more and more effort to simply stay upright, my legs were losing the strength to lift me and relieve the pressure on my pussy.

The clock read 7:15. I had been riding for 15 minutes. The pain wasn’t bad, but it was getting very persistent. I noticed that there were so many more aspects to the discomfort than I had ever imagined. It wasn’t just the pressure against my flesh, it was the constant strain to stay upright, the constant strain to lift myself to relieve the pressure, the pain in my legs from the muscles constantly working, the shifting of the discomfort from one part of my crotch to the other…

I had some control within a 4 or 5 inch area; I could move the center of the pressure, but it was becoming clear this tactic was false relief. I was beginning to shift faster, moving forward, feeling the discomfort of my bone smashing my clit against the wood, then back, and feeling my ass/hip bones pressing my perineum and ass against the outside of the pony.

To my horror, I discovered that the wood was spreading my pussy lips wide, and driving deeper into my cunt. When I shifted back, my ass cheeks spread wide, and the thin board felt like it was trying to spread my anus as well.The firm unrelenting pressure was slowly wedging my body wider apart.

A gasp escaped my lips as I shifted forward again, and the pony spread my labia wide and pinched the lips against my legs, a new kind of discomfort resulting from the increasing penetration of my vaginal area.

It was beginning to throb now, pulsing and modulating. I think it was actually beginning to really hurt. It took on a sort of fire to it, not hot, but burning nonetheless. I leaned forward as far as I could, accepting the crunching pain of my pubic bone pressing my clit and flesh, smashing them and deforming them. I grunted, and moaned, a long, low moan of pain. But I had to stay there, accept the pain of that position in order to give my vagina and labia rest from the pinching and stretching.

Leaning forward like that, further and further each time, stretched my arms behind my back. My wrists were tied to the back of the pony. I was prevented from laying down, and moving too far forward simply stretched my arms out in back.

It was about this time, that the ride was rapidly turning into a remarkable experience. The nuances of the pain were beginning and were unusual, the way it morphed and moved with me, how I could avoid one pain simply to invoke another… and each new pain was worse, was more, but if I shifted back to the lesser pain it would revitalize as a new level of agony…

The pain, which had begun in earnest now, was somewhat under my control. But the really evil, insidious part of this torture was how I had control over where it went. I could lean forward or backward, I could try shifting slightly left and right. Each shift gave relief to one area but resulting in discomfort in another.

The time ran slowly and it was just about a half hour and more. It was hurting. Really hurting now. I had been concentrating on techniques to help shift and spread the pressure and discomfort. Now I sat, simply enduring the pain in my cunt, the board jammed between my labia, spreading them apart and hurting.

I rocked back a bit and felt the blood flood back into my clit. It made the pain worse there. I grunted a little and moaned. The audiences were enjoying my discomfort.

This went on for some time, until the clock said 8:00. I had been riding an hour. I was in real pain now, with the sharp corners of the wood digging in, tearing my sensitive flesh slightly. I couldn’t see, but I wondered if I might be bleeding. The pain had swathed the entire area of my hips.

My legs could hardly lift me now, it was all I could do to stay upright. My breasts felt heavy in front of me, urging me to lay down, pulling me to rest by laying on the pony in front of me. It seemed almost possible until I moved forward and felt the ropes which held my wrists pull taught. Damn.

It was about this time 2 men came forward and reached down. Their finger pressed under my pussy and found my clit when I leaned back slightly. They moved their fingers slowly in a circular motion which flooded my body and mind in new sensations.

I couldn’t help it. I wanted to cum on that pony. They continued for a while. As my excitement grew, my hip movements began to thrust ever so slightly, my nipples hard. I was getting close to orgasm.

The they stopped.

“Fuck!” I was frustrated beyond belief, not only trapped on this horrible device but they stopped before I orgasm.

“Perhaps we need some other way to help distract you during your ride.” A woman said.

A woman picked 2 nipple clamps, the kind with the pretty chain between them. She and another woman then came over and stood next to me on each of my side, stroked my breasts, feeling their shape and lifting them slightly. Eventually, they concentrated on my nipples, which grew erect in spite of myself. As my left nipple was fully erect a woman took the first clamp and applied it.

“Ooowwww…. fuck, fuck, fuck…” I couldn’t help it. I howled when the clamp closed on my sensitive flesh.

Another woman stroked my right nipple to life in the same way. When it was ready, the clamp went on there, as well. I howled again.

Nipple clamps hurt like hell when they first go on, and then the pain slides into a numb ache. I have to admit, the clamps did actually distract me from the pain between my legs for a while. It took a few minutes for me to concentrate on the pain between my legs once again.

The clock read 8:15.

It felt like it had been a lot longer. There is nothing, absolutely nothing to do while riding the pony except endure. The problem was, that riding the pony I knew that this pain was going to simply continue, constantly, for the next 45 minutes. It was scheduled. It was to be endured, unceasing, unrelenting.

I realized after a bit that I was crying. Tears were rolling down my cheeks. I wasn’t sobbing, I had not lost that much control, but the pain was wearing on me. My leg muscles burned, my groin ached all the way through my hips, my shoulders even hurt a little from my wrists being tied behind me. I wanted this to be over, and I didn’t want to wait.

Slime was leaking from my nose. My tears had dried on my cheeks and breasts, but snot was descending over my lip and into my mouth. There was nothing I could do about it.

I leaned as far forward as I could. Screw my arms, they hurt from being pulled back, but I had to shift the weight on my groin. Try as I might, I could not get myself far enough down for my breasts to touch the pony. I stayed in that position for a while before pulling on my wrists to straighten myself.

The pain wasn’t terrible. It felt pretty bad at the time, there was a lot of numbness and aching, but it was not pure agony. It was simply… wearing. Constant. Pain. It hurt. I wanted it to stop. The clock ticking, the slow shifting of pressure from my ass to my pussy… I wanted it to stop.

I peed as this point. While I had made sure I had emptied my bladder before starting the ride, it had been well over an hour and I was losing control of my body functions from tiredness and strain. I remember realizing I was peeing when it happened. There had been no decision to release my bladder, it just happened. The urine soaked the wood and pooled below me on the concrete floor of the garage. The men and women around grinned whilst commenting on my loss of control.

It was cool in the garage, but I had been sweating. Sweat can really be irritating in bondage, because it trickles – it can cause itching, or tickling. And of course, there is nothing to do about it. Except endure. The wetness on the concrete below me was a collection of sweat, urine, snot and tears.

At 8:45, the men and women around came over. A number of hands were moving over my body. Some playing my breasts and nipples, others reached down and began fondling my clit. They kept the movement going, pushing, sliding, hardly and consistently, until I cried out and shuddered from a full, mind blowing orgasm following with a loss of bladder control the second time.

When the clock hit 9:00, two men untied the ropes which held my ankles up. I yelped just a bit, because my legs had been cramping and the cramps were suddenly worse when I extended them. My feet hit the floor, and lifted me off the damn pony. There was no immediate relief. The pain was still with me, haunting and embedded inside my damaged groin and ass.

My wrists were untied, and I put my arms around a man, allowing him to help me swing my leg over the pony and stand next to it. I was shaky, and had to be helped to sit on chair.

I bled slightly from the ordeal, my flesh having been stretched and torn slightly from my shifting and wriggling in place. There was bruising, some of it deep. My cunt hurt for several days after, deep down inside as well as the outside.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/8fzboe/f_my_experience_of_riding_a_wooden_pony