Sunday dawned bright and sunny, but there was a touch of melancholy in the atmosphere for me. It was the last day of the Flea, and it would be the shorter. Not only were things scheduled to start later than the day before, but closing time would come sooner as well. Then we would have to take down all of that stuff we had brought in, pack it all in the van and head home. I wasn't looking forward to that because I was enjoying myself way too much.
Consider this flashback to the night before. On returning to the hotel from the Masquerade Ball, I rode up on the elevator with what appeared to be a nice couple. We chatted briefly and cordially, and when my floor came up and I got off, I heard the man call out, "We're in room 1618 if you get bored!" Now if I had a second life to live, I probably would have turned on my heel, walked back into the elevator and asked what he had in mind. As it was, I didn't. Who knows what I missed? I shall spend a great deal of time fantasizing about what might have been, which in all likelihood will be more thrilling than any reality could have been.
After getting up I decided to go out for breakfast and found I could get a small croissant at the same nook where I got coffee the morning before. That and a cup of coffee got me up and running for the day and I returned to the room. We decided to pack and get out of the room altogether even though we weren't required to check out until that afternoon. Keeping things moving in one direction is usually a good thing when you have a lot to do. So we showered, dressed and headed to the paddock with all of our luggage.
The security people unlocked the paddock for us and we started getting ready for the day. Tacking would be delayed because Mistress planned to use it as part of the class presentation at noon. I started looking around the room and tidying up where necessary. That's when I saw a piece of fringe on the carpet - fringe that had once been a part of one of my hooves! Somehow, I had managed to stomp on it and rip it from the legging. Clearly I was going to have to be more careful!
Finally the class began. By this time, Stormy and I were down to tights and dance belt (respectively) and ready for tacking. Mistress began the class and talked about pony play, what is needed, how to approach it, what sorts of toys are useful and things like that. One major object of interest was a tool called a twitch. Just seeing it can make me shudder.
For those who don't know, a twitch is a heavy stick with a loop of chain at one end. Normally, it is looped around the snout of a recalcitrant horse. With a quick twist, the chain tightens and the horse starts cooperating. A twitch can also be used on human ponies. All it takes is a little imagination in deciding what to loop it around. Ponygirls have breasts and ponyboys have...well, you get the idea. One quick grab and a twist and...I'll follow Mistress anywhere, believe me.
The talk went on for quite a while mostly because of questions from the audience. I'm a little impatient by nature and I wanted to get my tack on, so finally I decided to move things along. Mistress had some reins hanging around her neck. I walked over, nuzzled her gently and ever so carefully took the reins in my teeth, trying to make off with them. She was a bit too fast for me, but she also understood what I was trying to say. My tack went on during the next part of the lecture and Mistress used me to demonstrate a number of training elements including gait, following commands, blindfold training and so on.
When the class was over, Mistress tacked up Stormy and the day began in earnest for us. People came and went in large numbers throughout the day and each of us was given lots of individual training time. It always amazes me how Mistress seems to find time for all the ponies she trains. I don't know how she does it - unless she has a clone somewhere and I don't realize it - but this pony appreciates the time and does not begrudge the time to other ponies.
Still, open play time was a frustration at times. There was one stretch of time when there were many ponies (including brand new ones trying it out for the first time) all over the place. It was great to see everyone having so much fun.
Except for me. Nobody seemed to want to play with me! I was tethered to my stall and couldn't get away. Ok, so I had been a little naughty earlier. I stole the fruit cup on the treat table and took it back to my stall. Then I grabbed the twitch and ran about with it. Still, I know I wasn't being punished for that. People were just shy about jumping in and playing. At least, that's what I think.
So there I was, all dressed up with nowhere to go. Now, I'm not at my best when I have nothing to do. I start looking for ways to amuse myself and the results can be a bit unpredictable. I looked about my stall to see what was at hand and found my hobbles hanging on the fence. Hobbles are cuffs that go around the legs and are connected with a short, heavy chain. They are used to keep a pony from kicking or going too far too fast. At least, that is what they are designed for. A bored pony can find other uses for them. They make a great noise when you toss them around, but in finding that out I incurred a punishment and got a good thwacking from Mistress. Turns out she can find many uses for reins. She also left the hobbles on the floor so I couldn't get at them again. Oh well.
There were visits from more friends and such, but overall, the afternoon was amazing for the way some new people jumped in and took part. There were new ponies and new trainers. Many came in couples and it was fun to watch them discover. You can almost watch the light go on behind peoples' eyes as they learn what pony play feels like.
Stormy and I had one final challenge in the form of a beautiful woman named Raven. Mistress brought her over to our stalls to introduce her to us. She said Raven was very nicely evil and was going to give each of us a grooming. Now Mistress had done a fine job of keeping Stormy and I groomed throughout the Flea, her delicious evil streak even causing her to use ice water on me at one point (it was all the water we had in the room). But this was something entirely different. Raven smiled at both of us in a way that made us back up a step. We looked at each other as if to say, "We're doomed!" Raven approached with treats in her hand and offered them to Stormy.
Let me tell you about the treats. Most were really good. There were granola balls, carrots, apples and fresh fruit. On the other hand, there were the actual pony treats. They were pineapple treats intended for real horses but consumable by humans. I had to take it on faith that they were made from pineapple because they tasted more like gum drops that had passed their expiration date. They were so full of and coated with sugar that it was like eating a sugar cube. Stormy and I had eaten our fill of them after about...one. But here was Raven offering them to Stormy. He didn't dare refuse.
His grooming followed and a painful experience it looked to be! Raven used the stiff brush and went at it until Stormy was beet red all over. At times, he looked as though he'd cry. But he made it through the process and eagerly awaited watching my face as I underwent the same grooming process. I love being groomed even if it can be painful. This is S&M after all! The grooming is my reward for the hard work I do. But here I was having a few second thoughts. When Raven came and offered me some pineapple treats, I ate them as well. She stroked my hair and told me what a beautiful pony I was. I just knew that stiff brush was hidden on her somewhere and I waited in preparation for what was coming.
But it never came. I don't know why, but Raven didn't groom me. Perhaps she decided I hadn't needed it or something, but whatever the reason, that was her decision. I envied Stormy his grooming session, but it turned out that Stormy envied me as well. Not only was my hide intact, but I had gotten to watch his face while he endured his session. He, on the other hand wasn't going to get to watch mine. Of course, he did get to watch my face the day before when I got sprayed with ice water!
I guess it's all about perspective.
All good things must come to an end, and as much as we dreaded it, the Flea came to a close. At 4:00 p.m. it was time to take the tack off and become humans again. I'll admit I was ready to remove the hooves after so many hours. They amount to three-inch heels, after all, and with all the cantering, jumping and trotting around I had done over the past two days, my legs were sore! On top of that, Stormy and I have something of an ethic that we follow. When we are in tack, we do not sit down. Real ponies don't sit down, so we feel we shouldn't when we are in role. That meant that the two of us had been on our feet for about 15 hours over the two days of the Flea. Like I said, this is S&M!
The stalls came apart quickly and we kept it neat and orderly. Everything got packed and ready for the van. Mistress went and got the van backed up to the loading door and the process of moving out began. It took surprisingly little time, mostly because of the help we got from some people who had joined in the fun over the weekend. Once done, some of us sat down to chat. Our time was limited because everyone had to be out of the place soon. Mistress, Stormy and I decided to make one more pilgrimage to the food court before heading out and had some Indian food again. It was a good move. I was famished.
We ate and talked about lots of things. For a brief moment, I was alone with Stormy and we talked just between the two of us. Stormy is very special to me and he told me he felt the same about me. You don't meet many people in one lifetime that you can get really close to and a friendship of that sort is priceless. I'm glad Stormy is part of my life now. I'm also glad that Mistress holds the same place in my heart. Most of all, I'm glad for the Experience of my first Flea.
The trip home to Boston was uneventful although it raised some anxiety as we passed sign after sign telling motorists to take the train to work the next morning because of the Biblical snow storm that was coming. When we left for Providence on Friday, there was a 20% chance of snow. Clearly that had changed. It wouldn't have been an issue except that I had to drive back to Maine the next day.
Arriving at Mistress' house, we had to immediately unload the van and put everything away. Luckily, we had things down to a science by that time and the process went smoothly. In less than an hour, everything was stowed away and the removable seats were back in the van. Both of us were tired, but it was time for stories and chit chat. And I had to clean my tack. A pony should never forget to clean his tack! We talked for a couple of hours before turning in for the night.
The next morning arrived with at least eight inches of snow on the ground. That meant a very long ride home for me, and it's a story I won't bother with now. I want to keep this upbeat.
So that was my first Fetish Fair Fleamarket. I had way too much fun, met lots of great new friends, showed off my stuff and learned a few things.
I learned that running off with the twitch will get Mistress' attention quickly, but that carrying a chain in your teeth might not be such a great idea.
I learned that what I consider to be adequate coverage might not be to the next person.
I learned that some of the weirdest looking people are also some of the friendliest.
I learned how much I adore Mistress and Stormy.
But I never learned what was going on in room 1618.
Friday, January 18, 2008
Winter Flea Part 2
To continue...
The next day dawned sunny and clear. It didn't seem like the three of us wanted to get up, but eventually the sun hit my face and there just wasn't any choice. Mistress had brought food for us to eat in the room so we could avoid restaurant bills. I mean, one could get a nice cheese omelet at the hotel restaurant for a mere $14, or a "healthy diet" breakfast delivered to your room for only $22, but the three of us were poor as church mice and needed to keep it simple. Stormy and I knew that lunch would consist of treats (mostly fruit and granola treats), so having something in the stomach was a good thing to start out. We each ate our fill and then turned our attention to coffee. Like most hotels, the Westin had an in-room coffee maker with a supply of coffee and tea handy. I tried the coffee the day before and it tasted like bilge water (and tea made with a coffee maker is about as lame as it gets), so I set out to find a Starbucks or something. I managed a good cup of coffee for about $2 without going too far afield, so I was happy and enjoyed it knowing it would be my only cup of Joe for that day.
Breakfast and showers done, we headed for the paddock at about 10:00 a.m. We had a number of things to do that day, but the two biggest items were a presentation at 11:00 and my bridling ceremony at 3:00. For those who do not know, a bridling is the pony equivalent of a collaring in which the Dominant takes possession of the submissive. Notice I am not using the terms Master and slave. Many do, but I don't like the cultural baggage that those terms raise with me. I respect the choice of others to use them, they just aren't for me. Besides, I am submissive in a qualified sort of way. I will follow commands as long as Mistress can make me understand what it is she wants. That may sound easy, but remember, real horses don't speak English. To produce the same sort of communication challenge between us that exists between humans and bio-horses, Mistress only speaks to me in French when training me. Because I don't speak or understand French, I have to figure out what she wants every time and respond correctly. In addition, I tend to trance out when in tack. I go silent and although I will speak on command, it's not easy and Mistress doesn't require it of me often.
I gave myself to Mistress back in November of my own free will (another reason why 'slave' just doesn't work for me) and she accepted the gift. The bridling ceremony was the way in which we decided to make it official. To observe the difference between pre and post ownership, we decided that I would wear the old "loaner" tack that I had been wearing up to that time. My new tack would go on during the ceremony. So needless to say, I was really looking forward to 3 p.m.
The first class went very smoothly. Mistress had Stormy and I show off our paces, canter, whinny and generally do as ponies do for the crowd. This was the first time I had done pony play in front of an audience and I really enjoyed putting on a show. It became clear, however, that Stormy and I were also prone to mischief. Stormy stole the treat dish and took it to his stall while I worried the foliage and generally made off with reins and other things that were lying around on display. Mistress administered a little discipline to the both of us and that settled things down - for a while.
The next couple of hours were spent doing open play with anyone who wanted to take the reins and give it a try. The audience went very shy and didn't do that much, so Mistress took the time to do more training with Stormy and I. Both of us enjoyed that immensely even though she worked us pretty hard. That is, after all, how the game is played.
Finally 3:00 p.m. arrived. There were actually two rituals that Mistress wanted to perform. Stormy doesn't actually belong to her. His owner lives in Texas while he lives in Connecticut. That can make for a long commute, so Stormy trains with La Dresseuse right here in New England. Because it's always best to formalize these things to avoid confusion, Mistress had a chat with Stormy's owner and they agreed on an open-ended lease. In observation of that agreement, Stormy had some new tack made at Water Hole as well. In fact, his tack was made from the same hide as mine - one of those little connections that feels so right. Both sets are dyed the same color and look nice side by side.
But I digress. Before doing anything else, Mistress removed my tack, leaving me in nothing but shorts and socks. Because the old headgear was gone, there was no way to tether me and I wandered around amusing myself quietly while Stormy's part of the ritual took place. Mistress told the audience about the lease from the Equus Eroticus ranch that bound Stormy to her while she put his new tack on. Once that was finished, I started getting frisky. Mistress quickly roped me in (well, actually, all she had to do was call out, "Pony treats!" and I came running - it works every time). Once she had me eating out of her hand, she was easily able to put the new bridle on my head. The harness came next, followed by the belt, gauntlets, collar, hooves and the bit.
The bit was the final touch and we wanted it to mean something. As a symbol that I submitted to her of my own free will, she held the bit in her hand and offered it to me like a treat. After a brief pause, I took the bit in my mouth and allowed her to finish tacking me. Then she claimed me as her own, put me through my paces and led me to my stall. Something happened then that took me completely by surprise.
Stormy has a sign with his name on it that hangs in his stall and I had been admiring it all day. He was going to give me the name of the person who made it so I could get one. Thanks to Mistress, that wasn't necessary. She had handcrafted a sign just for me with my name on it. She even fashioned a sign post that fit between our two stalls so that both signs could hang from it. I almost cried. Even Stormy was surprised.
Finally, Mistress called to the two ponygirls who had witnessed the ritual and told them to welcome me to the herd. Lucky and another ponygirl pal came over and started nuzzling me very affectionately. I looked up at the audience and sported a rather satisfied look. I wonder how the straight guys would have felt had they known I'm gay?
After the ceremony there was time for more open play. A few online friends stopped by to say hello as well. It's always fin to put a face to the names you see on the screen week after week, and these folks were no disappointment.
Then I made a fateful request. I wanted to go to the vendor area and listen to those incredible hooves on the cement floor. I wasn't the first pony to make the journey, and there had been no vibes over the last one to go, so I went with Stormy. All the way over I heard people saying things like, "Oh! Look at the beautiful ponies!" There were a couple of police officers who watched us as we passed by but said nothing (one wonders what they might have been thinking) and we were a hit in the vendor area. It wasn't until the next day that any objections were raised about my be-thonged backside and those weren't specific to me. Oh well.
When six o'clock rolled around, it was time for the Birds of a Feather session. This was a time for different groups to meet in an open session and talk about their various kinks with like-minded or otherwise curious people. We were doing a pony BoF, but I wanted to go to another one for a brief period. I got permission from Mistress (remember, she owns me now so I need to ask!) but there was the problem of my tack. It wasn't suitable attire for the hotel, remember? So, not to arouse ire, I changed into my shorts and shirt. Mind you, I still wore the gauntlets, collar and hooves (which made a fantastic sound on the marble floor of the hotel lobby), but away I went.
General note: wearing hooves on an escalator is an interesting but rather dicey proposition.
Meetings concluded, we removed the remainder of our tack, closed the paddock for the day and went in search of dinner. Once fed, it was time to clean my tack and get it ready for the next day. A pony's work is seldom finished but never boring.
Mistress had plans to attend a party that evening that neither Stormy nor I could attend. No big deal. We had tickets for the masquerade ball. We had picked them up the night before. Actually, they were put on us at the time. These tickets were bracelets that we had to wear all weekend. At first I was unhappy about that, but hey, this is a BDSM event! Duh! Someone in power puts a bracelet on your wrist and tells you to wear it, that's what you do if you want to get into the party! Stormy was dressed in a wonderful costume that made him look like a sort of idealized version of the Renaissance Man while I looked like a preacher out of the 1850's.
I have a pretty short attention span and didn't stay long at the Masquerade Ball. I got tired of it pretty quickly and went to another party I had been invited to. That, too, was pretty quiet, but I got to meet more online friends and chat with them for a while.
Then I realized I was falling down tired and wanted nothing better than to go to bed. I headed back to the hotel while Stormy went back into the ballroom.
I got back to the hotel about a half hour before Mistress came back from her party. Stormy got back from the Ball shortly after that. We had another night cap and turned in at about 1 a.m.
The third and final day in the next installment...
The next day dawned sunny and clear. It didn't seem like the three of us wanted to get up, but eventually the sun hit my face and there just wasn't any choice. Mistress had brought food for us to eat in the room so we could avoid restaurant bills. I mean, one could get a nice cheese omelet at the hotel restaurant for a mere $14, or a "healthy diet" breakfast delivered to your room for only $22, but the three of us were poor as church mice and needed to keep it simple. Stormy and I knew that lunch would consist of treats (mostly fruit and granola treats), so having something in the stomach was a good thing to start out. We each ate our fill and then turned our attention to coffee. Like most hotels, the Westin had an in-room coffee maker with a supply of coffee and tea handy. I tried the coffee the day before and it tasted like bilge water (and tea made with a coffee maker is about as lame as it gets), so I set out to find a Starbucks or something. I managed a good cup of coffee for about $2 without going too far afield, so I was happy and enjoyed it knowing it would be my only cup of Joe for that day.
Breakfast and showers done, we headed for the paddock at about 10:00 a.m. We had a number of things to do that day, but the two biggest items were a presentation at 11:00 and my bridling ceremony at 3:00. For those who do not know, a bridling is the pony equivalent of a collaring in which the Dominant takes possession of the submissive. Notice I am not using the terms Master and slave. Many do, but I don't like the cultural baggage that those terms raise with me. I respect the choice of others to use them, they just aren't for me. Besides, I am submissive in a qualified sort of way. I will follow commands as long as Mistress can make me understand what it is she wants. That may sound easy, but remember, real horses don't speak English. To produce the same sort of communication challenge between us that exists between humans and bio-horses, Mistress only speaks to me in French when training me. Because I don't speak or understand French, I have to figure out what she wants every time and respond correctly. In addition, I tend to trance out when in tack. I go silent and although I will speak on command, it's not easy and Mistress doesn't require it of me often.
I gave myself to Mistress back in November of my own free will (another reason why 'slave' just doesn't work for me) and she accepted the gift. The bridling ceremony was the way in which we decided to make it official. To observe the difference between pre and post ownership, we decided that I would wear the old "loaner" tack that I had been wearing up to that time. My new tack would go on during the ceremony. So needless to say, I was really looking forward to 3 p.m.
The first class went very smoothly. Mistress had Stormy and I show off our paces, canter, whinny and generally do as ponies do for the crowd. This was the first time I had done pony play in front of an audience and I really enjoyed putting on a show. It became clear, however, that Stormy and I were also prone to mischief. Stormy stole the treat dish and took it to his stall while I worried the foliage and generally made off with reins and other things that were lying around on display. Mistress administered a little discipline to the both of us and that settled things down - for a while.
The next couple of hours were spent doing open play with anyone who wanted to take the reins and give it a try. The audience went very shy and didn't do that much, so Mistress took the time to do more training with Stormy and I. Both of us enjoyed that immensely even though she worked us pretty hard. That is, after all, how the game is played.
Finally 3:00 p.m. arrived. There were actually two rituals that Mistress wanted to perform. Stormy doesn't actually belong to her. His owner lives in Texas while he lives in Connecticut. That can make for a long commute, so Stormy trains with La Dresseuse right here in New England. Because it's always best to formalize these things to avoid confusion, Mistress had a chat with Stormy's owner and they agreed on an open-ended lease. In observation of that agreement, Stormy had some new tack made at Water Hole as well. In fact, his tack was made from the same hide as mine - one of those little connections that feels so right. Both sets are dyed the same color and look nice side by side.
But I digress. Before doing anything else, Mistress removed my tack, leaving me in nothing but shorts and socks. Because the old headgear was gone, there was no way to tether me and I wandered around amusing myself quietly while Stormy's part of the ritual took place. Mistress told the audience about the lease from the Equus Eroticus ranch that bound Stormy to her while she put his new tack on. Once that was finished, I started getting frisky. Mistress quickly roped me in (well, actually, all she had to do was call out, "Pony treats!" and I came running - it works every time). Once she had me eating out of her hand, she was easily able to put the new bridle on my head. The harness came next, followed by the belt, gauntlets, collar, hooves and the bit.
The bit was the final touch and we wanted it to mean something. As a symbol that I submitted to her of my own free will, she held the bit in her hand and offered it to me like a treat. After a brief pause, I took the bit in my mouth and allowed her to finish tacking me. Then she claimed me as her own, put me through my paces and led me to my stall. Something happened then that took me completely by surprise.
Stormy has a sign with his name on it that hangs in his stall and I had been admiring it all day. He was going to give me the name of the person who made it so I could get one. Thanks to Mistress, that wasn't necessary. She had handcrafted a sign just for me with my name on it. She even fashioned a sign post that fit between our two stalls so that both signs could hang from it. I almost cried. Even Stormy was surprised.
Finally, Mistress called to the two ponygirls who had witnessed the ritual and told them to welcome me to the herd. Lucky and another ponygirl pal came over and started nuzzling me very affectionately. I looked up at the audience and sported a rather satisfied look. I wonder how the straight guys would have felt had they known I'm gay?
After the ceremony there was time for more open play. A few online friends stopped by to say hello as well. It's always fin to put a face to the names you see on the screen week after week, and these folks were no disappointment.
Then I made a fateful request. I wanted to go to the vendor area and listen to those incredible hooves on the cement floor. I wasn't the first pony to make the journey, and there had been no vibes over the last one to go, so I went with Stormy. All the way over I heard people saying things like, "Oh! Look at the beautiful ponies!" There were a couple of police officers who watched us as we passed by but said nothing (one wonders what they might have been thinking) and we were a hit in the vendor area. It wasn't until the next day that any objections were raised about my be-thonged backside and those weren't specific to me. Oh well.
When six o'clock rolled around, it was time for the Birds of a Feather session. This was a time for different groups to meet in an open session and talk about their various kinks with like-minded or otherwise curious people. We were doing a pony BoF, but I wanted to go to another one for a brief period. I got permission from Mistress (remember, she owns me now so I need to ask!) but there was the problem of my tack. It wasn't suitable attire for the hotel, remember? So, not to arouse ire, I changed into my shorts and shirt. Mind you, I still wore the gauntlets, collar and hooves (which made a fantastic sound on the marble floor of the hotel lobby), but away I went.
General note: wearing hooves on an escalator is an interesting but rather dicey proposition.
Meetings concluded, we removed the remainder of our tack, closed the paddock for the day and went in search of dinner. Once fed, it was time to clean my tack and get it ready for the next day. A pony's work is seldom finished but never boring.
Mistress had plans to attend a party that evening that neither Stormy nor I could attend. No big deal. We had tickets for the masquerade ball. We had picked them up the night before. Actually, they were put on us at the time. These tickets were bracelets that we had to wear all weekend. At first I was unhappy about that, but hey, this is a BDSM event! Duh! Someone in power puts a bracelet on your wrist and tells you to wear it, that's what you do if you want to get into the party! Stormy was dressed in a wonderful costume that made him look like a sort of idealized version of the Renaissance Man while I looked like a preacher out of the 1850's.
I have a pretty short attention span and didn't stay long at the Masquerade Ball. I got tired of it pretty quickly and went to another party I had been invited to. That, too, was pretty quiet, but I got to meet more online friends and chat with them for a while.
Then I realized I was falling down tired and wanted nothing better than to go to bed. I headed back to the hotel while Stormy went back into the ballroom.
I got back to the hotel about a half hour before Mistress came back from her party. Stormy got back from the Ball shortly after that. We had another night cap and turned in at about 1 a.m.
The third and final day in the next installment...
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Winter Flea Part 1
This was the 30th Fetish Fair Fleamarket hosted by the New England Leather Alliance (NELA). They hold two each year; the summer Flea in Boston and the Winter Flea. Up to this point, that too has been held primarily in Boston although it has had other venues. But it was always a Massachusetts event. This year, it moved to Providence, RI for a number of reasons - not least of which is the fact that in MA, one can not legally consent to be hit. That can be a problem in the BDSM world and has been in the past. Rhode Island allows consenting adults to have at it if they wish.
I arrived at Mistress' house in MA on Thursday afternoon and we immediately started loading the van for the trip. A few weeks ago, I had gone down along with my stable pal Ponyboy Stormy to help her build some stalls for this event. Now it was time to load them into the van. Eight stalls fit easily into the minivan leaving room for a lot more luggage. Good thing. Ponies and their handlers do not travel light. It took us a couple of hours to get everything in. In addition to the disassembled stalls, there were two suitcases, half a dozen garment bags, tack bags, food, cooler, legal warning signs, jumps, dressage cones, grid panels, a table, chairs, whips, grooming supplies and one laptop. But all of it went in.
Once the van was packed, I presented Mistress with my tack. I had ordered it in October from Buck at Water Hole Custom Leather but had kept the design details a secret up to this point. Most people in the scene have tack made from black leather. In fact, just about all the leather I see in the scene is black. I don't do black leather and neither does Mistress. My tack is mahogany with dark green edging and bass hardware. I chose these colors because they are Mistress' favorites and the colors of her stable. I wanted no doubt in anyone's mind to whom I belonged. In addition, the belt had not only my name on it, but hand-tooled roses and myrtle leaves for a design. Mistress is a priestess of Aphrodite and has named her stable after Her. Roses and myrtle are sacred to Aphrodite, so that created another connection. She is efficient with words and didn't say a lot, but she didn't have to. The smile on her face said it all.
After the presentation, Mistress tacked me up so she could see how it all went together. One doesn't want to be figuring these things out in front of an audience at a large public event, after all. Everything fit perfectly. Buck truly outdid himself.
A quiet dinner conversation with friends who came by to visit (another presentation of the tack to them) followed and then it was time for bed.
The next day we got on the road by 11 a.m. and headed to Providence. It was a rainy day but our spirits were high all the same. It took about an hour to get to the Westin in Providence where we met up with Stormy, who had driven in from Connecticut. The three of us checked into our room and then began the process of unloading the van and setting up the pony paddock. It took about four hours to get it all up and looking attractive. The engineering and planning had all paid off and the stalls went together without a problem. They were built from picket fence sections and looked very nice all lined up against one wall.
Our work for the day finished, we sought out an inexpensive meal. We found that at the Providence Place Mall, which is connected to the Westin Hotel via a sky bridge. The food court hosted a surprisingly good Indian restaurant and we ate there.
Mistress had to go to the Biltmore Hotel to pick up her presenter's packet and bracelets for Stormy and I. Because we were helping her to host the paddock as her ponies and had put so much effort into the project, we were able to get free admission to the Flea, which would otherwise have cost an incredibly cheap $15 for both days. Still, free is free! Stormy and I followed Mistress to the Biltmore because we planned to attend the Masquerade Ball the following night and needed to pick up our tickets. When we got to the 17th floor of the Biltmore there was a fashion show going full tilt in the grand ballroom. The Biltmore was built at some point in the 1920s and has a magnificent ballroom as many hotels of that era did. This one did not disappoint.
Mistress took care of her transactions while Stormy and I amused ourselves watching the models walking about in what must be considered high fashion in the fetish world. Yours truly spent a great deal of time carefully watching a gorgeous man in a black leather sailor's outfit that was suitably tight in all the right places. Add to that a number of "cops" also attending, and my uniform fetish was getting quite a workout. There were headdresses made with fiber optics, unicorns, dragons, voluptuous models who looked half starved but could probably have taken a strong man down if he tried anything, and just about anything else you could imagine. All very creative and interesting.
The highlight for me was the performance of Dominique Immora, a multi-talented performance artist who did a tasteful strip tease act while keeping a hula hoop going around not only her waist, but her chest, neck and arms. A truly masterful performance and very tastefully done. I was astounded and spellbound.
There was a pool party back at the Westin that I decided to check into, but I didn't stay for long. Instead I decided to go back to the hotel room and relax. Mistress and Stormy had gone back to the fashion show but arrived back at the room less than an hour after I did. More conversation and a little night cap, and we were in bed asleep.
More later.
I arrived at Mistress' house in MA on Thursday afternoon and we immediately started loading the van for the trip. A few weeks ago, I had gone down along with my stable pal Ponyboy Stormy to help her build some stalls for this event. Now it was time to load them into the van. Eight stalls fit easily into the minivan leaving room for a lot more luggage. Good thing. Ponies and their handlers do not travel light. It took us a couple of hours to get everything in. In addition to the disassembled stalls, there were two suitcases, half a dozen garment bags, tack bags, food, cooler, legal warning signs, jumps, dressage cones, grid panels, a table, chairs, whips, grooming supplies and one laptop. But all of it went in.
Once the van was packed, I presented Mistress with my tack. I had ordered it in October from Buck at Water Hole Custom Leather but had kept the design details a secret up to this point. Most people in the scene have tack made from black leather. In fact, just about all the leather I see in the scene is black. I don't do black leather and neither does Mistress. My tack is mahogany with dark green edging and bass hardware. I chose these colors because they are Mistress' favorites and the colors of her stable. I wanted no doubt in anyone's mind to whom I belonged. In addition, the belt had not only my name on it, but hand-tooled roses and myrtle leaves for a design. Mistress is a priestess of Aphrodite and has named her stable after Her. Roses and myrtle are sacred to Aphrodite, so that created another connection. She is efficient with words and didn't say a lot, but she didn't have to. The smile on her face said it all.
After the presentation, Mistress tacked me up so she could see how it all went together. One doesn't want to be figuring these things out in front of an audience at a large public event, after all. Everything fit perfectly. Buck truly outdid himself.
A quiet dinner conversation with friends who came by to visit (another presentation of the tack to them) followed and then it was time for bed.
The next day we got on the road by 11 a.m. and headed to Providence. It was a rainy day but our spirits were high all the same. It took about an hour to get to the Westin in Providence where we met up with Stormy, who had driven in from Connecticut. The three of us checked into our room and then began the process of unloading the van and setting up the pony paddock. It took about four hours to get it all up and looking attractive. The engineering and planning had all paid off and the stalls went together without a problem. They were built from picket fence sections and looked very nice all lined up against one wall.
Our work for the day finished, we sought out an inexpensive meal. We found that at the Providence Place Mall, which is connected to the Westin Hotel via a sky bridge. The food court hosted a surprisingly good Indian restaurant and we ate there.
Mistress had to go to the Biltmore Hotel to pick up her presenter's packet and bracelets for Stormy and I. Because we were helping her to host the paddock as her ponies and had put so much effort into the project, we were able to get free admission to the Flea, which would otherwise have cost an incredibly cheap $15 for both days. Still, free is free! Stormy and I followed Mistress to the Biltmore because we planned to attend the Masquerade Ball the following night and needed to pick up our tickets. When we got to the 17th floor of the Biltmore there was a fashion show going full tilt in the grand ballroom. The Biltmore was built at some point in the 1920s and has a magnificent ballroom as many hotels of that era did. This one did not disappoint.
Mistress took care of her transactions while Stormy and I amused ourselves watching the models walking about in what must be considered high fashion in the fetish world. Yours truly spent a great deal of time carefully watching a gorgeous man in a black leather sailor's outfit that was suitably tight in all the right places. Add to that a number of "cops" also attending, and my uniform fetish was getting quite a workout. There were headdresses made with fiber optics, unicorns, dragons, voluptuous models who looked half starved but could probably have taken a strong man down if he tried anything, and just about anything else you could imagine. All very creative and interesting.
The highlight for me was the performance of Dominique Immora, a multi-talented performance artist who did a tasteful strip tease act while keeping a hula hoop going around not only her waist, but her chest, neck and arms. A truly masterful performance and very tastefully done. I was astounded and spellbound.
There was a pool party back at the Westin that I decided to check into, but I didn't stay for long. Instead I decided to go back to the hotel room and relax. Mistress and Stormy had gone back to the fashion show but arrived back at the room less than an hour after I did. More conversation and a little night cap, and we were in bed asleep.
More later.
Rusty Gets His New Tack!
In an earlier post, I talked about going to Water Hole Custom Leather and ordering a set of tack from Buck. When I ordered it, he said he wouldn't be able to start on it until after Thanksgiving because he had a lot of stuff to do before then. That was no problem for me as I wanted the new tack in time for the Winter Flea and that wasn't until January.
All the same, I was like a child on Christmas Eve waiting and fantasizing about my new tack. I haven't been able to post about it up to now because I had kept a few of the details a secret from Mistress. It was one last chance to control something before I gave her my reins for good and I was going to have fun with it.
I ordered the tack in mahogany with dark green edging. These are the colors of Aphrodite's Meadow - Mistress' stable. They happen to be favorites of mine as well. I once had an apartment that was done almost entirely in brown and green. I chose these because I wanted no doubt in anyone's mind whose pony I am. So there.
Because Buck would be hand dyeing the tack, other possibilities presented themselves that don't normally with black leather. Buck suggested graphics that could be tooled into the belt, gauntlets and hoof leggings and I got to work on that as soon as I got home. I had chosen my name, a five-pointed star, myrtle leaves and roses for the design. Roses and myrtle are sacred to Aphrodite, so that created another connection.
In early December I sent Buck a note reviewing the order and telling him to go ahead with it. Only a couple weeks later I found him on Yahoo Messenger and asked how he was doing. It turned out that the tack was just about finished and we scheduled a date between Christmas and New Year's to get together and make final adjustments.
I made arrangements with friends to stay the night at their place near Hartford. That is a story in itself but I won't go into it here. Suffice to say I was on my way to Tolland early the next day. With the exception of a wrong turn in Hartford (another story - and a Prozac moment to be sure), things went smoothly and I got to Water Hole on time.
Buck was pretty busy, but he's never too busy to spend time with a client. He picked up a big box behind the counter and ushered me into the back room. Once there, he laid the tack out on a table.
There it was. Everything I had hoped for and more. The mahogany was beautiful and rich, the dark green was exactly what I had envisioned, the tooling was incredible - even improving on the design I had sent, the brass hardware was incredible and the leather made the most wonderful sound. And that's to say nothing of that heady scent of new leather. Wow.
I wasted no time stripping down to my dance belt and Buck put the tack on me for the very first time, checking for fit and making adjustments where necessary. Little had to be done, and that was anticipated. I spent some time learning how to make the hooves work well and how to swish my tail.
I was so taken by it all that I immediately ordered a set of hobbles. To my pleasant surprise, he finished them in short order and got them to me via the Stormy express (Stormy delivered them at the Winter Flea in Providence - more on that in the next post).
So now I have tack and attitude! For anyone who is interested, I can't recommend Water Hole Custom Leather highly enough. The link can be found in my Ponyplay 101 post below.
All the same, I was like a child on Christmas Eve waiting and fantasizing about my new tack. I haven't been able to post about it up to now because I had kept a few of the details a secret from Mistress. It was one last chance to control something before I gave her my reins for good and I was going to have fun with it.
I ordered the tack in mahogany with dark green edging. These are the colors of Aphrodite's Meadow - Mistress' stable. They happen to be favorites of mine as well. I once had an apartment that was done almost entirely in brown and green. I chose these because I wanted no doubt in anyone's mind whose pony I am. So there.
Because Buck would be hand dyeing the tack, other possibilities presented themselves that don't normally with black leather. Buck suggested graphics that could be tooled into the belt, gauntlets and hoof leggings and I got to work on that as soon as I got home. I had chosen my name, a five-pointed star, myrtle leaves and roses for the design. Roses and myrtle are sacred to Aphrodite, so that created another connection.
In early December I sent Buck a note reviewing the order and telling him to go ahead with it. Only a couple weeks later I found him on Yahoo Messenger and asked how he was doing. It turned out that the tack was just about finished and we scheduled a date between Christmas and New Year's to get together and make final adjustments.
I made arrangements with friends to stay the night at their place near Hartford. That is a story in itself but I won't go into it here. Suffice to say I was on my way to Tolland early the next day. With the exception of a wrong turn in Hartford (another story - and a Prozac moment to be sure), things went smoothly and I got to Water Hole on time.
Buck was pretty busy, but he's never too busy to spend time with a client. He picked up a big box behind the counter and ushered me into the back room. Once there, he laid the tack out on a table.
There it was. Everything I had hoped for and more. The mahogany was beautiful and rich, the dark green was exactly what I had envisioned, the tooling was incredible - even improving on the design I had sent, the brass hardware was incredible and the leather made the most wonderful sound. And that's to say nothing of that heady scent of new leather. Wow.
I wasted no time stripping down to my dance belt and Buck put the tack on me for the very first time, checking for fit and making adjustments where necessary. Little had to be done, and that was anticipated. I spent some time learning how to make the hooves work well and how to swish my tail.
I was so taken by it all that I immediately ordered a set of hobbles. To my pleasant surprise, he finished them in short order and got them to me via the Stormy express (Stormy delivered them at the Winter Flea in Providence - more on that in the next post).
So now I have tack and attitude! For anyone who is interested, I can't recommend Water Hole Custom Leather highly enough. The link can be found in my Ponyplay 101 post below.
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