An Afternoon Ride On A Fence Rail
It’s a long painful afternoon, but everything still works afterwards despite what she thinks:
At noon I was allowed a plate of cold biscuits and a pail of water. then I was placed upon a fence rail and left there to ride the rail until supper. The rail was rough hewn wood, with sharp ridges. It wasn’t too wide but enough to take my weight. A portion in the center had been sanded down until it was smooth and free of splinters but still had a ridge along the top. My arms were still bound behind my back, elbows touching, naturally, when Juan and Mendosa lifted me then set me down over that rail. The ridge I mention was squarely centered on my crotch and dug in as soon as some of my weight came to rest on it. I tried to tell them that it hurt terribly and that I would be injured if I had to sit there. They found my protests amusing.
My legs were tied to the rails below the one I was sitting on. But the fence was tall enough so that I could not touch the ground with my toes. The last part of the bondage was a short length of rope Mendosa looped around my neck then passed down my back to my wrists. The rope circled that already around my wrists then was pulled back up towards my neck. My hands had to come up on my back and my elbows stuck out. When he tied the knot, my hands were in the small of my back and I had to strain a bit to keep them up there. They laughed about something as they left me.
It hurt. That’s the first thing you have to understand. The wooden ridge dug into my flesh and there was no way I could ease any of my weight off it. And I quickly found out that the best thing I could do was sit straight up and not move. The top of my body could bend forward, backward a bit, and even to the side. But that motion only put sideways stressed upon my crotch and made the wood hurt more.
As time passed, the pain changed and grew. It became more of an ache than a sharp pain. It gnawed at me, an insistent ache that I could do nothing about. I tried to get my hands free, but that did nothing save pull on the rope attached to my neck. And that became worse as the hours passed because if I let my arms relax, the hands tried to lower and that tightened the rope around my neck. It was horrible.
When Juan came back that evening, I was crying softly and was a very pathetic girl. As he untied me from that torture, I tried to tell him that my sex had been ruined and would never work again, an idea that saddened me greatly. To have just discovered sex and then be denied it for the rest of your life is not a pleasant thought. But he laughed at my stammerings, telling me that other girls had ridden the rail and their sex still worked — he knew that for a fact.
From Valley Of The Captive Maidens by F.E. Campbell.
Elsewhere on Bondage Blog:
This is painful fun and I love it!