Use this time to talk to slave, to lecture her, to explore her body, to test her in small ways. Running your fingers around the curves of her helplessness, they settle inside her elbows to lead her motion. "Open." Is she pliant or willful? Will she will spread herself at your Word? Stroking the armpits, you check her grooming before sliding down to the curve of her breast, then further to her hip, and finally to the soft, tender parts she is working so hard to protect.

After many long minutes her calves finally tire. slave uses the last of her strength to lower herself as gently as possible to the hard, narrow surface of the Pony. Delicate flesh is pressed between the Pony and her pelvis, laying the first of many small bruises upon her sex. In moments her muscles can lift her and she rises again, but only for a few minutes this time. Muscles throbbing, again she lowers herself, carefully placing her weight on a new, unmarked place. It takes longer to summon the strength to rise a third time, but after long seconds riding the Wooden Pony she points her toes and pushes against gravity, sweating from the exertion... As slave's flesh swells, comfort is impossible and she squirms constantly. It is this constant motion that gives "riding the Wooden Pony" its name.