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...