Free A Bestiary of Unnatural Women by Ashley Zacharias Page A

museum, but it
looked sharper and crueler when it was sitting in their living
room. Supported by four sturdy, well-braced legs, it stood a little
higher than her waist. When she was perched on it, no matter how
desperately she pointed her feet and strained, the floor would
remain at least six inches beneath her toes. “It’s lovely. Just
beautiful. I thought that it would be a lot more rustic looking.”
She reached out and stroked the smooth wood.
    “I made it out of maple. I thought that oak
would be too rough, too porous. And I finished it with linseed oil
because polyurethane would have been too sticky against your
skin.”
    “I love the way the grain shows in the wood.”
She ran her fingers across the upper edge. “It’s not too
sharp.”
    “I planed the edge off to about the diameter
of a pencil because I don’t want it to cut or cause any permanent
injury. The corners on the side, too, where your thighs will press
against it.”
    “That’s good. I don’t want to be injured when
I use it.”
    “I don’t want you to use it at all. It’s just
for show.”
    “No, it’s not.” She began unbuttoning her
plaid shirt. “I’m going to try it out right now, just to see how it
feels.”
    “It’s going to feel painful.”
    “I bet it is.” She unsnapped the waistband on
her jean and unzipped them. “I bet it’s going to hurt like hell.”
As soon as she had removed her sports bra and cotton panties she
said, “I’m going to need a chair to climb up there. I can’t just
jump up on it from here.”
    “I’ll get one.” He brought one back from the
kitchen area and set it beside the horse. She slipped her white
tube socks off, leaving herself entirely nude.
    As soon as the chair was in place, she
stepped up and swung her leg over to the other side, just like she
was mounting a real horse.
    She gingerly lowered her crotch down onto the
apex of the blunt wedge. “Ouch. I still have to spread my legs
pretty wide to get on this thing.” She kept a running commentary as
she adjusted herself. “Ooh. It feels a lot wider than it looks. Let
me get my foot off the chair and let you pull it away. Ouch. I have
to rest all my weight on the edge. That hurts. It’s pressing real
hard into my crotch. Ouch,” she said more emphatically. “I thought
that I’d be able to take some pressure off by squeezing my legs
together and lifting myself up, but I’m just hurting my legs when I
try.” She rested on the edge for a minute, then said, “Ow. It’s
really starting to hurt now. A few more minutes and it’ll be real
torture. I wonder how long I can stand it.” She swayed from side to
side a bit. “I have to work to keep my balance on this thing. If I
don’t keep working at it, I’ll fall right off. I guess my upper
body is heavier than my legs.” She put her arms down in front and
back, placing one hand between her legs and the other behind her
butt and pushed down. “This is no good. I can use my hands to lift
myself right off the edge. We have to do something about that. You
can’t let me get relief like this.” She rocked her pelvis forward
an inch before lowering herself back onto the wedge. She replaced
her hands and repeated the action. “This is no good at all. I can
scoot myself right off this thing if I can use my hands.” She
inched forward again, and then said, “Nope. I’m going to run out of
room for my front hand. I have to go backward.” Following her own
instructions, she began to inch backward along the wedge. “It feels
like I’m scraping my thighs raw against the wood this way, but that
doesn’t hurt as much as sitting on the upper edge. It’s no
deterrent. The edges rubbing against the sides of my thighs by my
knees are a bigger problem than I would have guessed. I don’t feel
them much when I’m stationary, but when I’m moving, they makes two
more pressure points that add to the pain in my crotch.” She kept
slowly scooting backward until she had no place to put her