Camp Crucible Part 2 - the Pony Show

If you are a pony player attending Camp Crucible, chances are you will spend at least half the time you are at camp getting ready for or performing in the pony show. Ponies by nature are show-offs and love to strut their stuff. Even those who scorn the stage can be found hanging around either watching or taking part in some surreptitious manner. They can’t help it, after all.

If you are just out to have fun and kick up some dust, there is no end to the possibilities. In this show, everyone gets a ribbon. What ribbon you get is the real question. If you are the competitive sort, you set your sights on specific ribbons and do what you think it will take to win them. Mistress is the competitive sort. She had a plan for Stormy and Knight Mare that she believed would land the Grand Champion ribbon. It also stood a better than average chance of landing her in the hospital, but that didn’t matter! This was show biz!

And me? This was my first year so I was a bit of a wild card. Still, Mistress felt I had a good chance of landing one of two possibilities. The first would be the ribbon for gymkhana – essentially meaning best display of training and talent. The second was conformation – how looks, body structure and behavior conformed to the pony ideal. There were other possibilities, but either of these would be nice. Best in class seemed a little high to reach, but why not?

Fact is, neither Mistress nor I had any idea what I would be doing outside of a vague notion of a jazz dance routine. I have a dance performance background (albeit in Spanish dance) and Mistress majored in dance - improvisational, that is - in college, doing a stint with the Boston Ballet in the process. We had selected the music a month or so before, opting for a piece called the Boogie Bumper by Big Bad Voodoo Daddy. I don’t know why I played that one for her. It terrified me because it was so fast-paced. Still, I liked it and believed she would not choose it, so why not offer it as an option?

Then she chose it. What’s more, she decided that I should dance in hooves and wear both sets. She reasoned that so many ponies work with fore hooves but don’t do a lot with them. I could change that and possibly raise the bar a bit on performance with fore hooves if I animated them more. Well, that was the idea anyway.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Rehearsal is the stuff of a good performance, so Friday and Saturday were largely devoted to just that. Since the cart routine with Stormy and Knight Mare posed the greatest challenge, Mistress worked with them on Friday morning to rough things out. I spent that time being a demo pony for the littles merit badge program (see previous post). When that was finished, I was to go to the show pavilion and work on my routine. I arrived a little early and waited my turn.

At least, I tried to. The pavilion had a roof over it which, while providing excellent shade, also kept it pretty cool. Cold might be a better word. The temperature outside was not bad, but with the breeze that was blowing, a bare-chested ponyboy that wasn’t doing anything found himself chilled and shivering pretty quickly. Opting for comfort (and not tethered to anything), I stepped outside and into the sun. The warmth immediately enfolded me and it wasn’t long before the shivering stopped. I’m not sure what exactly happened then, but I got distracted by noises that were issuing from a nearby building. It was a large gymnasium close by and I could hear the distinct sound of whips cracking. What was a naturally curious pony to do? I went to investigate, of course!

The building in question was the upper dungeon – called Heaven by the camp. It was very large and there was a dizzying array of equipment there including several St. Andrew’s Crosses, a bondage table, and...scaffolding with winches! The atmosphere was intoxicating but I didn’t get a chance to take it all in before Andrea the head stable hand for Aphrodite’s Meadow came in looking for me.

My absence had been noticed.

Andrea wasted no time hooking my reins onto my bit. “Let’s go for a walk,” she said in her melodious voice. That sounded fine to me at the time, but it wasn’t long before I began to wonder if this was a punishment for wandering off! Honestly, I don’t know where she got all that energy, but I got walked, trotted, and galloped all over that camp site. Up hill and down dale we went finally arriving in the very heart of Kids’ Camp.

Kids’ Camp was the heart of littles territory and there were quite a few of them assembled there riding a merry-go-round. Before I knew what was happening, I was surrounded. I didn’t panic, but I was a little nervous. There’s no telling how things will go with these guys, and being ready for anything is a good idea. As with real children, events can turn on a dime at Kids’ Camp.

Andrea left me amongst the littles while she went to fill my water bottle. I stood at attention listening as they peppered Andrea with questions like, “Can we pull on his tail?” Andrea answered in the negative over and over until she finally gave instruction that I was to be well treated. Then the petting started and I relaxed. Andrea came back with water and gave me a nice long drink before we set out for the pavilion once again.

A brutal but mercifully short climb up the hill brought us back to the main road that would take us back to the pavilion. While walking along this road, we were approached by a camp taxi. The taxis were golf carts that campers could take in order to get from one place to another. Some of the distances you had to walk in camp could be a challenge and the hills were incredible, so the taxis were a welcome attraction. Taxis were driven by volunteer campers doing chores to lower the cost of camp. I had paid extra to buy out of chores this time around because I wanted to get the immersion experience my first year. In the future, I’ll pay less and do chores. I had plenty of down time as it turned out, and any opportunity to lower cost is always a good thing.

We didn’t stop as the taxi pulled along side, but the driver took the time to talk with Andrea just the same. “That is one hot pony you have there,” she said, “Hot, hot, hot!” I had the distinct impression she wasn’t talking about the weather here.

I love camp!

We arrived back at the pavilion where Mistress had finished with Stormy and Knight Mare – quite a while ago. “I said go get him, not get lost in the woods with him,” Mistress told Andrea. “Honestly, I’m going to smack you.” ‘Smack’ is a favorite word with Mistress. As long as she uses it, it’s unlikely that she’s seriously annoyed. Besides, Andrea enjoys a good smacking as much as I do, so it wasn’t a very potent threat, dear reader.

Mistress and I worked for about an hour on the jazz routine. There was only so much we could do at that point because we didn’t have any music, but we warmed up, stretched out and made a few strategic decisions. The dance would be based on a tease. I would approach a jump several times but not actually jump over it until the very end. There was a logical reason for this. I would be dancing in hooves on an asphalt surface. Basically, I had one shot to get it right. Taking an actual jump in hooves was risky to do once. Doing it more than that was asking for trouble.

Trouble, it seems, has a way of finding you when it wants to. We got things spaced out and decided where the jump would be located. Mistress showed me where the judging table would be located. That would be important because I would need to flirt with both the judges and the audience. Since the judges would be located across the arena from the audience, the choreography would need to address both sides of the pavilion.

Tight muscles intervened once I started cantering in the hooves, so we decided to keep the amount of cantering I would need to do to a minimum. Then we broke it off for that day and I spent the rest of my time warming and stretching leg muscles to make sure I didn’t injure anything before the show.

Mistress devoted all of Saturday Morning to my dance number. Right after breakfast, we headed for the pavilion. There were a lot of ponies and handlers working when we got there, so we relocated our rehearsal session to a basketball court just down the hill a bit. I had taken the time to map out the music so that we knew how many counts of eight each phrase of the music contained. With that knowledge and Mistress’ choreographic skills, we got a routine pinned down and working in about three hours. It would be a mixture of pure dance, pure flirt, and pure gait work with just one pass over the jump and a good deal of humor thrown in. Oh yes, and I would do some Flamenco- inspired clogging somewhere in the middle of it all. We headed back to pony camp and I spent the rest of the day and night running through the routine in my head to make sure I got it down.

Sunday blossomed with Mistress blaring Home on the Range again and calling on all ponies to rise and shine! It was the day of the big Pony Show and we needed to get cleaned up, fed, tacked up and ready to go!

Anxiety set in pretty quickly, but by that point, I had decided that the real point of all this was to have fun. Besides, Mistress had told me that if I fell, I should make it spectacular, pick myself up and then do it to the other side. That way, people would think I meant to do it.

Right.

When we got to the pavilion, I was immediately struck by one detail. The judging table was located on the same side of the pavilion as the audience instead of the opposite side as we had thought. I felt a tide of panic rising as I feverishly started figuring out how to reverse my entire routine. Mistress has a cooler head, though and told me not to worry about it as it was her problem to solve. And solve it she did. She simply put the jump in the diagonally opposite corner and told me to come in from the other side. That way, nothing changed except which wall I faced at certain times. Cinch!

There were a total of twenty-four acts in the pony show and some of the talent was spectacular. There were many cart routines and quite a few ponies on short reins. My dance was one of the few routines in which the pony was completely independent of his or her handler. I couldn't help being nervous when my turn came. It was comforting to have Mistress out there performing with me. She made the first entrance and directed me through the dance with a crop. Some remarked on how well we related, but honestly, dear reader, I don't remember actually looking at her because I was so deep in concentration. Also, this was the first time I had done the dance up to speed in the hooves. Up to this point, I had rehearsed in moccasins. One false move and they would be making moccasins out of me! I remembered what Mistress told me way back in November about wanting her ponies fearless and in no time all I wanted to do was show off my stuff. Before I knew it, I was kneeling before the judges with Mistress mounted on my back and pushing my head down in a bow of deference. It was over and I could go back to the paddock for some much needed water.

The advance class routines started with Mistress, Stormy and Knight Mare. Stormy started out pulling a cart blindfolded. He took Grand Champion at the Floating World last summer pulling a cart in this manner. It’s quite a skill. Mistress flew the colors – both the US flag and the Leather flag – as would happen in a rodeo. Then she left Stormy pulling his cart (no longer blindfolded) while she went and got Knight Mare. When Knight Mare’s cart met up with Stormy’s, Mistress carefully straddled both carts and drove Stormy and Knight Mare in a tight formation around a couple of curves. I help my breath as I suddenly came to understand why her costume included body armor and a helmet with a leopard skin cover on it. The presentation ended with a bunch of littles running out onto the show ring and parading off with the carts.

One act that I found especially funny and fun to watch was Dead Pony. She was all Goth and was carried out onto the floor by two men in black trench coats who then brought her to life. She did a rather zombie-like rendition of a pony gait and then broke into a soft shoe dance. Her fun was brought to an end when her handlers sent her back to the beyond until the next time. Altogether a riot to watch.

And it didn’t end there. There were ponies on hoof, cart ponies and Buck carried his Mistress Nikki in a saddle through a set of tight cones while blindfolded. Jojo and Buttercup did a wonderful dance together to a song about girls and horses. Watching them dance was great fun. As massive as he appears when tacked up, the Clydesdale named Buttercup is one of the gentlest beings I have ever met. Their number actually made a few people cry.

Eventually, all twenty-four acts had made their way across the stage, but before the judges could begin their deliberations, all the ponies had to line up and whinny for them. One by one, each pony gave up a whinny to see who would be judged to have the best one. We all gave it our best. When they came to Dead Pony, however, the “whinny” was a deep hacking cough that made everyone – even the assembled ponies – laugh hysterically.

She won that round.

Then the judges began their judging. It didn’t take a long time. Lunch was pressing in, after all. Ribbons were awarded to the novice class first and yours truly took the very first one – for gymkhana. What did I say about aiming? I took another later on for “Most likely to take to the stage.” Considering that I have a degree in theater and perform on a regular basis, I’d say that was a pretty sure bet.

Buttercup received a ribbon for Tack and Appointments, and the two of them got a ribbon for most adorable performance. Both were well deserved.

Fuzzy got the ribbon for Sexiest Ponyboy.

NorthernBelle got the ribbon for Sexiest Ponygirl.

Ponyboy Monorail received Reserve Champion for his performance.

And the crowning achievement for Aphrodite’s Meadow was the Grand Champion ribbon given to Stormy and Knight mare for their hard work.

All in all, a great day for Aphrodite’s Meadow and friends.

I could sit on my modest laurels and be happy with that. But Mistress has plans. She has very big plans. They include a Grand Champion ribbon at some point in the not-too-distant future.

Ride ‘em like you stole ‘em, ma’am!

Next up: Part 3 - a Tale of Two Scenes

Camp Crucible Part 1 - Of Races and Littles

I can't remember when I first heard of Camp Crucible, but from the start of my journey I heard mention of it repeatedly and was told many times that camp was the place to go for pony play experience. So it was that I signed up for camp this year and traveled to the state of Pennsylvania with Mistress to attend my very first Camp Crucible.

Camp takes place over Memorial Day weekend each year and is at least five days long. Many (including Mistress and myself) also choose to stay one extra day at the start of camp, arriving the day before the session officially starts. If you're going to travel all the way from Maine to Pennsylvania, you might as well stay as long as you can. Besides, I had heard from Stormy that the camp puts on an invitational pony race on Thursday evening and I wanted to see how I measured up. After eight months at the gym, I was looking to see if anything had actually changed from my earlier years.

I was never very athletic and I hated gym class because that fact got pointed out to my embarrassment and humiliation every time I had to put on that damned uniform. But now, I was hoping that the work I had put in since Buck first measured me for my tack would pay off just a little. I didn't care about winning, I just wanted to endure through the contest. If I could cross the finish line anything but dead last, that would be the cherry on the sundae.

We arrived at camp in the mid-afternoon hours. Mistress is not subtle about something like this. We had traveled for six and one half hours to get there from her home in the Boston area, and if there is one thing Mistress knows, it's how to make an entrance. We stopped just outside the gates to the facility so that she could "hoist the colors" as she put it. Getting out of the van, she grabbed a small Jolly Roger flag and put it up on the radio antenna. Then, with Arthur Fiedler and the Boston Pops blasting Home on the Range at top volume, we drove into the camp site.

Okay, so the metaphors are a little mixed. It helps if you hold them lightly. Work with me. The logo for Camp Crucible is a Jolly Roger and piracy tends to be a recurring theme from year to year. At the same time, it's probably one of the finest pony camps in the country. Things are bound to get a little confabulated.

I retreated into sub space at about the moment we arrived. As I have said before, I tend to clam up in new situations. Remaining silent would not be in the cards for very long, though. This was Camp Crucible where things that never happen in real life are commonplace. You'll come to understand what I mean by the time I'm finished telling these stories. Silence and deference would be respected, but how outgoing you are and how much fun you have tend to be directly proportional here.

We stopped first at registration where we signed some legal paperwork - releases for both picture modeling and liability purposes - and got our name tags. Getting the right tag was important because there were two ponies in camp named Rusty this year (what were the chances?). They gave me his tag first, but I pointed out that it was not the correct one. Mine should have read "Ponyboy Rusty" with the tag line "Aphrodite's Meadow Stable". Once they found my correct tag, Mistress and I were on our way into pony camp.

Pony camp was a world within a world. It consisted of a series of cabins laid out in a circle around a central play area that included what most people would call a tether ball. In pony head space, however, it became a Jolly Ball. Hours of entertainment for a bored pony! There were bales of straw piled in one area and several stalls had been set up as well. An octagonal cabana completed the scene. Several discussions and classes would take place there over the weekend.

So there were plenty of sunny and shady places as well as places with roofs in case it chose to rain (which it didn't). A recipe for fun indeed.

Upon arriving in pony camp I got my first taste of discipline as well. Piper pony was there and greeted us with a hearty whinny. Nobody whinnies like Piper - nobody. I'm told that bio horses tend to answer her when they hear her. So there's no mistaking a whinny out of her. I was astonished to hear it for the first time in person and could only sit there in the van and marvel.

Mistress has a rule, however, and I failed to follow it. Quite simply, she expects her ponies to answer up if they hear a whinny. Failure to do so earns the errant pony a whack, and a whack I got! I quickly came out of my stupor and whinnied back to Piper who came over to the van and gave me a nuzzle. I had never met Piper in person although I had heard a lot about her, and this instant friendliness and warmth was a very welcome change from the way people usually relate.

This was going to be a good experience.

But settling in came first. Aphrodite's Meadow had been assigned to Cabin #4 and we made our way there. A lot needed to be done to make the space livable. Beds and shelves were moved about to make room, screens, rafters, mattresses and floors needed to be swept and luggage needed to be unpacked. When all was in order, Mistress tacked me up for the pony race.

The invitational pony races were held on a ball field at the top of the campground. Each pony was to pull a cart with a driver in it for about 50 yards to the finish line. The races would be taped and shown on Saturday night in the casino where off-track betting would take place. I fancied myself a long shot because I'm not a sprinter, but I would give it all I had for Mistress. There were four ponies, all stallions, and a small contingent of campers who came to watch. I did my best to warm up and stretch out while Mistress looked the carts over and chose one.

Finally, the appointed time arrived and we all lined up at the starting gate. I was very nervous, but willing to try anything at this point. If I had said I didn't want to race, Mistress would not have compelled me to do so, so I was here by choice. With that in mind, I set my sights on the finish line. When I heard the word, "GO!" and felt the slap of my reins, I took off and ran just as fast as I could paying no attention to where the other ponies were. The blinders I was wearing helped with that, of course, but they also kept me from knowing exactly what had happened. All I know is that I got plenty of praise from Mistress when that race was over. I hadn't won, but I hadn't finished last either.

In fact, nobody knew who won the race. It would have required a photo finish to figure it out and that sort of technology was not available. Race number two would end in the same manner. For that reason, the race course was lengthened out to around 70 yards. The pony pulling the lightest cart was also handicapped by a few extra yards. Mistress hitched me to a different cart as well and spent a little time showing me how to take off like a racer. It was a bit counterintuitive, requiring me to rock backward onto my back foot, but in the end, it made all the difference. It would be four days before I knew the outcome for certain, but I had heard the rumors.

I won the third race! It was by a nose, but I did it. I guess all that gym time really did pay off. I guess I'll continue to go regularly.

Something else happened just before the races that caught my attention. A group of people arrived that seemed to be behaving like young children. I had never had any experience or exposure to this form of play and didn't understand what I was looking at for a short time. It wasn't long before I learned that these people were a group of "Littles". Littles are people whose kink consists of acting, interacting and living as young children. Some had pacifiers, some wore diapers, all of them related to the people around them as a toddler would to any adult. It was new and strange to me, but an open mind is a clear asset at a place like this, so I decided to go with it and see how things played out. Besides, although I had not seen her at play, the head stable hand for Aphrodite's Meadow is a little when she is not with us and she is certainly no slouch. So I spent some time over the weekend watching and listening to the littles.

It's not my kink and I'm still not sure I quite understand the attraction, but I'm sure there are plenty of people in and out of the scene who say the same thing about pony play. But after a short while, I came to see littles for just what they were - people having a whole lot of fun in a way that suited them. Do I have a problem with that? Nope!

Besides, I also came to understand that littles LOVE the ponies and ponies love attention. Seems like a good fit to me.

So it was that I volunteered to take part in the Pony Merit Badge program for the littles on Friday. Mistress was busy working with Stormy and Knight Mare on their entry for the pony show at the time, and the presenters needed one more pony for the class. I joined Piper and her handler Dana who taught the class. The littles all gathered in the cabana for a short lecture and were then escorted out to see the two of us. They stood about in a tight little group and listened intently as Dana showed them Piper's tack and their new straddle cart. This was a four-wheeled cart with a mock up of a horse's back and a saddle instead of a regular seat. Each part was shown in turn, but when Dana pointed out the stirrups, one of the littles chimed in with, "They have those at the doctor's office!" Clearly, some littles specialize in the sort of comments young children make that mortify their parents. Hilarious doesn't begin to describe how it can get when they start playing off of one another.

Soon it was my turn for some attention. The littles were shown how to brush my tail and several took turns. Some did a little grooming as well. Their touch was tentative and very gentle, oddly comforting in a way. And when they learned how to feed a pony, they lined up to give me apple treats. This pony loves apple treats and I got several along with some pats on the head. Overall a good experience.

That doesn't mean no dark side exists, of course. One Domme I spoke with said that you could get into a conversation with them and the next thing you knew, you'd be hanging from the rafters with no idea how you got there. At one point, a group of them came into the main lounge ('headquarters' they called it) to make smeeps in the fireplace. For those who came in late, smeeps are s'mores made with Peeps. You could interpret the activity any way you wanted. At first it looked to me like a group of kids having a good time making famous camp fire treats and eating them. But soon my perspective shifted a little bit and I saw a group of Wednesday and Pugsley Addamses skewering little yellow duckies on wooden stakes, melting them slowly over the fire, stuffing them between graham crackers and biting into them. All with smiles on their faces. It was deliciously sadistic, evil and a lot of fun to watch. And the humor wasn't lost on me.

It takes an adult with a sharp mind and a sense of humor to be a child.

Next up: Part 2 - The Pony Show