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reaching up to unbutton her shirt and unfasten her bustier. She releases the horse so I can draw her clothes off her arms, then stands with her arms wrapped around her middle and her head down. She doesn’t cover her genitals, and I feel a surge of pride to see her being so well-behaved, despite her obvious fear.

“Emily, hold out your wrists so I can put your cuffs on.”

She does immediately. I praise her as I buckle on her dainty cuffs. Then I pull rope out of my bag and drop it next to the horse.

“I’m going to lift you and set you on the horse. Master Ten is going to guide your right leg, so if you feel other hands on you, that’s all it is. He’s not going to touch anything but your leg,” I say, more for Ten’s benefit than hers. “I’m going to position the horse so the rail is pressing against your pussy. Then I’m going to tie your cuffs so you won’t be able to fall off. I want you to keep your feet flat on the floor the whole time. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

I know Emily separates my nurturing side from my sadistic side and calls me “Sir” when she thinks I’m in meanie-mode, but I don’t like it.

“No, I told you, we’re not doing that. I’m Daddy, little girl.”

She shivers but nods. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Okay, here we go.” I grip her slender waist and lift her a few inches so Ten can draw her leg over the top rail of the horse. Then I lower her gently until she finds her feet. The top rail is about two inches below her groin; I bend down and adjust the legs until the rail presses against her from pubic bone to anus. Ten proves surprisingly helpful, working the legs on the other side of the horse; he gives me a nod as we finish.

There are a hundred different ways to bind a bottom on a wooden horse. I don’t intend to leave Emily on for more than an hour, so I don’t need the bondage to immobilize her, just prevent her from falling off as she becomes fatigued. I also want to leave her enough freedom that she has to choose to submit to her punishment from moment to moment.

Mindful submission, as Niall would say.

I draw her hands behind her back and tell her to grip her elbows. Once she does, I clip her cuffs together.

“Reach down and feel the rail, Emily,” I tell her. She does, her little fingertips inching along the wood. “That’s right. Now that you know where the rail is, you may not touch it with your hands again. I know you’ll be tempted as the pain increases to reach back and push yourself up off the rail. I don’t want to see that. That’s not accepting your punishment. That’s not submitting to me. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Daddy.” She lifts her fingers away from the rail and tucks her hands in the small of her back.

“That’s my girl. I’m going to bind your ankles now. This is just to make sure you don’t fall. The bondage won’t support you, and it won’t prevent you from going up on your tiptoes to relieve the pressure. However, I’ll be timing you. I have a number in mind for how long you’re going to ride the horse. I’m not going to tell you how long, only that it’s not more than ninety minutes. Whenever you go up on your tiptoes, the time stops until you go back down on your heels. Do you understand?”

She swallows hard. She’s probably already feeling the pressure, but she nods. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl.”

She is being very good. Some bottoms, figuring that they’re already in deep shit and have nothing to lose, try to bargain at this stage. It never goes well for them, but it doesn’t stop them from trying. Emily tried to bargain with me once while we were on the cruise, but she learned from her mistake and has never tried it again. My sweet girl.

I tie off the rope to one leg of the pony, run it through the D-rings on her right cuff, tie it off to the back leg, then do the other side. She can move up and down, but not side to side.

“Go up on your tiptoes so I can see whether you’re stable, Emmy.”

She does it immediately, no wobble.

“Good. Come back down onto your heels.”

She settles back onto the rail with a whimper. I adjust her labia so they’re spread on either side of the curved top and step back.

“Are you ready, Emily?” I take out my phone and flip to the timer.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Time starts now.” I thumb the timer and set it down on the bed so I can see it easily. I intend for her to ride the pony for an hour. If she makes it the whole time, she’ll be in severe pain. She probably won’t be able to walk unassisted for the rest of the day and will develop bruises that will last for a little over a week, given the way Emily marks. This won’t be a punishment she forgets, and it will make her think long and hard before she deliberately breaks one of my rules again.

She draws in a deep breath and rocks experimentally back on the rail, resting most of her weight on her ass. Given that her sphincter is already sore, I don’t expect she’ll be able to stay in that position for long, and I’m proven right when she rocks forward with a whimper after little more than a minute.

She quickly discovers there’s no good position. Sitting flat on the rail puts pressure on her recently-fucked vaginal opening and perineum. Sitting forward puts pressure on her clit with its thousands of nerves. Emily’s clit isn’t the most sensitive I’ve ever come across. She can stand for me to spank it and give it a hard pinch. But it’s sensitive enough that she rocks

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