Once we got there, my groom had his hands full with getting things together for the demo, so I went to the bathroom and changed into my gear.  I had made the trip wearing my lycra tights, leather body suit, and boots (all discreetly covered by a black trench coat) so the only thing left was to don my tack to complete the transformation.  The bathroom/changing area was quite dark and someone had to fetch a flashlight so that I could see what I was doing.

Emerging from the shadowy room, I found my way to the place where the ponies were to stay during the demo (formerly the pool table area) and found activity beginning to stir.  Other ponies and handlers were arriving.  I had the pleasure of meeting some of the ponies that I had corresponded with through the pony play mailing list while others were new to me altogether.  For the most part though, ponies and their handlers kept to themselves.  Finally things got started, with my groom and I being the first ones out.  The lights were very bright and hid the crowd.  I was conscious of them, but more concerned with not falling off the edge of the small stage.

My groom told the crowd about the basics of pony play with me up there being my pony-self.  At some point, it caught my eye that there were televisions about the club; it took a few seconds to register that we were being shown on them.  My groom must have felt me bristle because as soon as we were safely backstage, he let me know that the TVs were live, closed circuit and that nothing was being saved on tape.  <whew>  Other ponies came out and showed their stuff to the crowd.  There were two-legged riding demos and some Dressage moves shown.  The "ponies-in-waiting" were just barely able to catch a glimpse of the performers through the backstage curtains.

Somewhere in there, I was brought out to show some of my show pony gaits.  Later in the demo, I was brought out again and handed to Paul Reed for a four-legged riding demo.  Paul had originally trained me for riding, but we had not worked together since some pony play in DC at the Crucible.  Paul rode me around the small stage and showed off my training.  I have to admit to being a bit wary, after being injured the last time he had handled me, but things went smoothly and I tried to be a well-behaved pony.  I hope my groom guy wasn't too nervous!

Off to backstage again where that same pony boy that pops up from time to time came through the curtain.  He came over, patted me and started talking to me, but quickly realized that I was not going to talk back.  He just gave me an envious grin and went out to watch the rest of the demo.  He was not at the event to show, but just to say hello and to lend his support.  (He mumbled something about preferring to pony in the buff!)

The demo was winding down.  My groom got back on stage and announced that the ponies would mill around with the crowd for a short bit and then there would be a carting demo performed outside in the parking lot for those who wished to stay and venture beyond the club's walls.  The best news (to me) was that I would be the pony performing the demo!  My very first time pulling a cart!  My groom knew that this was a long-time desire of mine and he had made it come true.

Dorothy led me around during the time when the ponies mingled with the crowd.  One brave rider rode a pony boy through the thickness of people.  The place was packed and since people were chatting and gawking at ponies, they weren't necessarily paying attention to any particular pony and were often in the way.  As I have written elsewhere, ponies do not say, "Excuse me" or such when winding their way through a crowd, they just trot on through.  Dorothy caught the pleasure in my eye as I did just that!  Rumors had the crowd numbering up to 80-90 people!  Hands reached out to pet me and many folks gave praise, but my mind was elsewhere.

Finally the time came that I had been waiting for – the chance to pull a cart.  The 20-30 folks that went outside to watch formed a ring of sorts to keep vanilla folks from seeing too much of what was going on, as we were in downtown Raleigh-Durham in broad daylight.  Paul Reed had brought his new pony cart for the demo.  Things started to happen very fast and in an instant my groom was gone.  I was in Dorothy’s very capable hands, but my groom was AWOL and that made for a nervous pony girl.*

The sight of the cart made the nervousness and the crowd and everything else go away.  It was red with wooden shafts and I could not wait to be hitched to it.  My wrist cuffs were attached to the ends of the shafts and the reins drawn back while Paul got into the cart.  The balance of the cart was very good and I hardly felt the added weight.  A flick of the reins and we were off.  The circle formed by the crowd made a great track of sorts for me to pull the cart around.  Paul took me around a few times at both the walk and trot, then stopped the cart and asked if anyone in the crowd wished to try their hand at it.  I recall looking about for my groom, but not finding him in the sea of faces.  Dorothy held my head steady while someone new took the cart over from Paul.

I am not sure how many people took Paul up on his offer to try carting me.  I do remember three of them though.  One was a lady who guided me with a very gentle touch on the reins; a stark contrast to a man who followed her with very heavy hands on my mouth.  From the first harsh tug, I knew that I had grab the bit in my mouth to prevent from getting hurt.  I remember him trying to fight me with the reins and holding the bit so tightly in my mouth that my jaws began to ache.  He wanted to drive me in a figure-of-eight, but with the loss of control he could not.  The third person I recall was a red-haired fellow with real horse experience so he knew what to do with a pony girl.  His reining was superb and he worked pony and cart in figures-of-eight with ease.

After everyone who wanted a chance to try their hand at carting a pony got one, I was unhitched from the cart and Dorothy started leading me back to the club.  The pony boy I know had been watching the carting demo from the back of the parking lot and when I saw him, I broke out into a gallop, headed straight for him and bumped him hard with my shoulder.  By that time, Dorothy had recovered control of me and made me be an orderly pony the rest of the way to the club.

After the demo, we retired to a nearby restaurant with one of the pony boys from the demo and his wife.  The pony boy and I hit it off and we chatted away the entire evening, pretty much leaving the others folks to their own devices.  He is a wonderfully strong draft pony who does two-legged riding.  The hours passed away much too quickly and we had to be on the road.

* A young (vanilla) man from a nearby shop who had seen what was going on, grabbed his digital camera and started taking photos of me.  Fortunately, my groom saw what was happening and went over to talk with the young man, who by now was rather frightened because he had been caught.  My groom explained to him that my picture had been taken without my knowledge or consent and that was not right.  The young man admitted that this was the first he had seen of a pony girl and since he had his camera handy, he thought he would get proof to show his friends.  My groom persuaded him to erase the pictures of me and thankfully there was "no harm, no foul" to any of the involved parties.  We tried to find the young man before we left the club to talk with him a bit more and let him meet me (out of pony gear) but he was no where to be found.

Renaissance Faire – Wisconsin – 7/3/99 - I was visiting some friends over the summer and the trip had been planned to include a visit to the Wisconsin Renaissance Faire.  Word got out that I would be visiting Rhena and Lynne (my two "daddies") and soon Bob (aka MastrPerk), CBTOhOh, LrdCorsair and some of our mutual friends also made arrangements to visit during the same time frame.  I can’t recall how many we were in total, but with old friends coming together from across the country and new ones joining in, it was a wonderful family reunion of sorts.

Somewhere during the course of conversations that settled the dates for my visit, Rhena and I decided that the Renaissance Faire would be a "safe" place for me to wear my pony gear.  She and Lynne had wanted to see me pony for some time and here was a perfect venue staring us in the face.  The item that we considered most carefully was protecting my identity.  Having been a public pony in the past meant that I had appropriate (non-XXX rated) gear to wear in public without being arrested.  Renaissance Faires tend to be an accepting place in general, with a large gathering of Goth, kink and, of course, period role players.

When the big day arrived, I dressed in my black Lycra tights, leather sleeveless bodysuit and my pony tack, complete with plume and all my bells.  The blinders would be attached on my bridle to help conceal my identity.  Special for the event, I had found fake fur to be added to my costume that would become white stockings for my "hind legs".  As it turned out, one of our friends knew taxidermy stitches and was able to sew the fur stockings in place right on my legs.  I never knew that having a beautiful woman at my feet could be so much fun!  <giggle>

When it was time to leave the hotel for the festival, arrangements were made to pile into two or three cars for the trek.  Somewhere in there it dawned on me that I was in full pony gear and still had to get out of the hotel!  Rhena had told me that a friend of hers would be handling me for the day.  She was a large, beautiful and statuesque woman whom I liked immediately.  Although she had never handled a pony girl before, she was an experienced (BDSM) player and her demeanor was such that no one would have guessed that this was her first try at pony play.  As a group, we filled the elevator and descended to the lobby.  When the doors opened, my handler’s voice rang out, "C'mon Pony!"  To the shocked and disbelieving stares of the lobby employees and patrons; with bells ringing, I high-stepped all the way from the elevator through the lobby and outside the hotel to the waiting minivan!

I rode to the Ren faire with my new handler and her entourage.  I had to lean forward in the seat so that my plume would not be crushed.  We giggled about our grand exit through the hotel’s lobby.  On the way, we talked about protecting my identity in the pictures that would surely be taken that day.  I trusted my new handler with the details and she would not let me down.

Upon approaching the entry gates, we were stopped by a park ranger who informed my handler that "significant others" were not allowed to be on a leash within the park.  Even though in pony persona, I had to giggle; I had known this woman for approximately 24 hours and had come to adore her but now she was my SO!  My handler, in a rather regal and very matter-of-fact voice, informed the park ranger that what she was holding were a pony's reins and, not by any means, a mere leash!  The female park ranger (to her credit) would not back down and kindly explained the dangers of having someone on a leash or reins within the park.  The danger of choking or catching up a hapless stranger from the crowd were great and with a final dramatic sigh from the handler, my reins were removed.

Freedom!

Since we had taken multiple vehicles to Faire, we had become separated from the others.  I looked about and through the crowd, saw Rhena, Lynne, Bob and the gang walking towards the gate.  I broke into a gallop, headed straight for them.  I could hear my handler yelling, "Whoa, pony!  Runaway pony!"  My bells jingled and my feet seemed to thunder like hooves, as I got closer to Rhena and Lynne.  The commotion made heads turn and the crowd parted to make way for me.  I could still hear, my now frantic handler, calling, "Whoa, pony!"  Just before I was about to run into them, Rhena stepped in front of Lynne and I came to sliding stop before them.  Panting hard, I trotted about them while my handler and her entourage caught up with us.  Rhena would later tell me that she really felt like a runaway horse was speeding towards them.  To be mistaken for a real horse is an honor that this pony girl will never forget.

Certainly I deserved the scolding I received about running away and I promised to behave myself for the remainder of the day.  Already I could hear the people in the crowd murmuring about the sight of a pony girl in their midst.  As soon as our gang had all gathered around, we went inside the Faire.  The weather was very warm that day, so Rhena and Lynne had made sure to bring extra water for me to drink.  Since we were a rather large group, we decided to split up.  I, of course, stayed with my handler and her entourage.  Her two male slaves were both dressed in Renaissance garb and my handler herself was decked out in a montage of sheer black material, a tight corset and a shining headpiece.  Another female submissive of my handler's was with us as well, and although not in costume, she was dressed to kill, just the same.

We had not been in the Faire long, when a young, blonde-haired girl, of about 12 or so, approached us with her mother trailing behind.  The young girl walked fast and purposefully, but slowed when she approached me.  She turned to her mother and said in a snobbish, and trying to sound grown-up, voice, "That woman is trying to be a horse, Mother."  The mother replied, "I think you're right."  And the two of them walked off.  The tone in the girl's voice made me wonder for a moment if we had chosen wisely when deciding to pony me at the Renaissance Faire.  These thoughts would soon be dashed when I overheard a young boy ask his parents if he could pet the pony!

Although I started off wearing my bit, it soon became apparent that it would not be feasible for this venue.  I needed to be able to communicate clearly with my handler and her entourage.  While I much prefer to just be a pony, I accepted the fact that I would just be wearing my gear this day, and not quite acting like the pony girl that I had become accustomed to being.

Throughout the day, folks would come up and ask my handler about the pony girl or if they could pet me.  Most people asked before attempting to take my picture.  My handler obliged them with a smile.  She would pull me close to her and hug me tightly – thereby hiding my face from the camera.  There was only one instance when a person tried to take a picture without permission, but my two protective daddies blocked him at every turn.

Late in the afternoon, I caught a glimpse of the Renaissance Faire version of a pony boy.  While I been to several Faires, I have found that most males pulling the carts are no more a pony boy than any other vanilla folk.  This particular boy wore his horsetail well and was in much more leather than the average cart-pulling boy.  Oh!  How I wanted to trade places with him, even if just for a little bit.  Someone in my handler’s entourage offered to "borrow" the cart when it was left unattended, but I did not wish to take the risk of upsetting the Faire's promoters.

The most memorable highlight of the day was a little girl who came up to me and asked if her mother could take her picture - posing with me.  I had spent the entire day avoiding pictures when possible, but I found myself not wanting to deny this sweet girl.  I went up to the mother and explained to her that I had to turn my face away when she clicked, but that it was OK for her to take the picture.  The little girl was elated and came up and hugged me tight during the picture.  Her sincere thank you afterward made me glow for the remainder of the day.

CUFF – Charlottesville, VA - 2/13/00 – The nice folks at CUFF asked for a repeat performance, so off I went.  I had invited a friend of mine, Brian, to come with me, as he had expressed an interest in pony play.  The afternoon found me feeling very anxious for no apparent reason – all I could think of was getting into my tack and enjoying the bliss of equine transformation.  We went out for a late lunch/early dinner beforehand with a small group, but antsy as I was, I did not eat much.

Once we got to the club, I could not change fast enough into my pony gear.  Things could not happen fast enough for me.  (I am NOT known for my patience!)  My groom was chatting with people, but I wanted to pony, so I made off for a long side room and romped around a bit by myself.  The business part of the meeting started and my groom was able to slip off with me and we worked around the darkened room for a bit.  We needed to be a bit subdued so as not to disturb the meeting.  I recall Brian standing quietly off to one corner, leaning against the wall and observing us.  At one point, my groom stopped me in front of Brian and asked him if he wanted to try handling.  Brian accepted and somewhere in my pony brain, I was thinking, "Sure let the new guy try it.  I will have fun running off on him." 

Brian approached me slowly and then gently reached out to stroke my nose.  Normally, I raise my head and do not allow people – even my groom – to touch my face but something made me stay still for this quiet tall guy.  My groom gave him my reins and Brian moved me out.  Somehow the thought of running off or misbehaving never came back into my head.  All I could think of was how nice his touch felt on my reins and that I wanted to be a very good pony for him.  Brian would work me for a bit, tell me to whoa and then come up next to me and pet me and whisper to me about what a good pony I was being for him.  I hope he saw me beam for him!

A pony boy that my groom and I know came by to say hello to us and I found myself rushing towards him with a hello whinny.  He was in street clothes, of course, and seemed amused by my greeting since he was in not in pony mode.  I don't remember who was holding my reins, but soon it was, back to work it was for me.  The room we were using has 4 or 5 poles along the length of one side and is it SO much to fun trot or canter through them as in the gymkhana event, pole bending.  At the canter, it gives a perfect opportunity to work on flying lead changes.  When given a lapse of direction from my handler, I headed for these poles to thread my way through them again and again.

Finally, it was time for the demo, so we returned to the meeting room.  My groom introduced me and the demo began.  The area we had to work was small, but my groom talked about pony play and the gear needed to start off with.  I must admit to glancing off to the corner of the room where Brian sat a few times during the demo.  As ponies tend to do, I didn't really pay much attention to the talking and what-not going on around me.  After all, I'm just a pony.  <Sly grin>  My groom worked me carefully through the seated people a few times.  One of the fun things about being a pony is that you don't have to say, "Excuse me" when maneuvering through a crowd, you just plow right through!

Once the demo was over, my groom let everyone know that we would be playing in the long room and if people wished to watch they were welcome.  I found myself hoping that he would let Brian have my reins again.  We worked on my high-step for a bit and I was allowed to trot and gallop until it was out of my system.  We went around the entire club a time or two and when we passed Brian, I would try to stop and somehow get his attention, hoping that he would understand and come take my reins once more.  Finally he came and while I remember he and my groom talking, I can't recall anything that was said between them.

Soon enough though, Brian did take control of me once more and would work me, then stop, pet me and work me some more.  Somewhere during this, it dawned on me that his stride was so very long that he was walking while I was trotting!  His gentle manner and whispering to me reminded me of The Horse Whisper.  Although this was his first time handling me – indeed any pony – he seemed to be a natural.  I knew that I would want him to handle me again.

It was getting late and the club was getting ready to shut down for the evening.  My groom keeps an eye on the clock and makes sure that I have enough time to recover from pony space once I am out of my tack.  I recall being lead through a room with a pool table and that something there spooked me and I starting misbehaving.  It took everyone a while to understand that something was wrong and that I was not just acting up without reason.  I remember banging into a table and ending up in a corner and Brian quieting me down.  It was at this point that my gear came off and my return to being a human took place.

It was in just a few days that I would ask Brian to become my pony handler.

Lucky for this pony girl, he said yes!

To say that I was an anxious pony girl would be putting it mildly!  We could not get there fast enough.  Brian and I arrived early so we could get everything moved into the room and have a nice leisurely dinner and meet up with our friends.  After dinner, we went up to the room to change, but there was no direction for me to get into my pony gear.  Everyone teased me about my anxiousness and there was nothing for me to but blush and go along when it was decided to go down as we were and check out the dungeon.

Upon entering the area that had been converted into a dungeon for the evening, we were curious to see if there was anyone we knew amongst the early arrivals, Ben, Jean and Brian all ran into folks they knew from somewhere, but I did not see many faces familiar enough to strike up a conversation.  My eyes darted about the space as small talk was happening all around.  There were no scenes starting yet, just folks getting warmed up or bringing their equipment in.

At one point, I finally found a friendly face – that of Lady Hugs.  I was happy to see her in attendance and quickly went to say hello.  She inquired about my ponying and I admitted to not having ponied in a while and being a tad rusty, but being eager as always.  I wondered to myself if she might handle me a bit during the course of the evening.  The five of us talked for a while, with Brian and Lady Hugs making me blush over and over about being so anxious to pony.  It seemed like an eternity, but Brian finally said something about going up to the room and maybe getting me in my tack.  Had he left it up to me, I would have run all the way back to the room, but I was certainly not the one in control of the activities.  

Once in the room, there was pony gear everywhere in an instant.  Sweet as always was the transition into pony space.  Because we still had to travel from the room to the dungeon, Brian left my bridle off and covered me with a long black trench coat for the trip.  I hesitated slightly before entering the elevator.  Elevators are scary for a pony!  Brian's calm voice let me know it would be all right, and I stepped carefully through the open doors; jumping over the crack in the floor.  Once again making our way through the dungeon, we noticed that many more people had arrived since we had left.  Brian found a quiet corner and set up shop for us there.  After removing the coat from my shoulders, he fastened my bridle in place and made sure that all buckles were secure and that I was ready to go.

Typically when in pony mode, my hands are bound to my harness belt; preferably to the back of the belt.  Due to the crowded dungeon space, Brian announced that he would not bind my hands.  He wanted me to be able to break my fall should one occur.  My eyes pleaded with him to fasten my wrists, but his mind was set.  While my hands went to my back, and pretty much stayed there, it is not the same as being bound; my gait, especially my high step, suffered from the off balance sensation.  How to make him understand?

Brian walked me through the crowd of folks.  There was not really room to do much else.  He made sure that we paid another visit to Lady Hugs.  She patted me and "introduced" me to the people sitting at her table, telling them what a fine pony girl I was.  *beam*  On we went through the dungeon stations, Brian taking care to steer me carefully so as not to disturb anyone's scene. 

It was suggested that we trek up to the infamous 10th floor of the hotel where there were "special rooms" and more intense/private scenes going on.  Perhaps the long stretch of hallway on the secured floor would afford room for this pony gallop.  At this point in the evening, I was both eager to romp wildly about and also getting a tad tired.  Brian was not up to running with me as I galloped and did not seem to wish to turn me loose to my own devices.  Finally, our friend (who himself was also recovering from an injury and in not much better shape than Brian to be running with a pony girl!) announced that he would take the patient pony for a gallop.  We started off at a jog going up the long hallway, but I broke into a canter about halfway.

People came to the doorways to see what the commotion was all about.  Once we reached the end of the hallway, my handler told me to whoa and set about the task of turning me around.  (Mind you, this was his debut as pony handler!)  Once we were facing the right way, I was eager to run again and broke into a gallop right off.  Our poor friend was left to keep up with me.  By now, some folks had wandered into the hallway and we had to dodge them.  I miscalculated once and ended up bumping into the wall – not very graceful for a pony girl!

Since I had now worn out two handlers, my pony-evening was coming to a close.  At one point we ended up back down in the dungeon and I was taken out of my gear and laid over a spanking bench.  Our friend wanted to learn and practice flogging and such.  With Brian's guidance, he got to try out most of the contents in the toy bag on me.  I must say that our friend surprised me by being rather heavy handed; but Brian kept a close watch on both of us.

Crucible Pony Day #1 - Washington, DC - 1/12/02 - An entire day devoted to pony play at a local club.  Brian and I arrived a bit late, so we grabbed a little something to nibble on and settled back in our chairs to watch the happenings.  Some of the people and ponies there I recognized, some I did not.  A lady trainer in a baseball cap caught my eye as she worked her pony boy.  She just had the aura of "horse sense" about her.  Her pony boy stood proud and attentive at the end of her reins.

As always, I just wanted to get into my pony gear; no talking to strangers, no sitting around - just let me pony!  Of course, Brian knows how anxious I am and milks it for all it is worth.  After what seems an eternity, he gave me the go ahead to change into my suit.  Wasting no time, I race to change and race back to bounce before him, clad head to toe in black Lycra.

The floor area of the club had been cleared to allow the most room possible for the ponies.  Two carts sat off to one side of the room and four make-shift stalls had been set up along one wall.  Since it appeared that the stalls were taken, we spread out our gear on an unused table.  Ever so slowly, Brian tacked me up.  With every piece of tack that he buckled into place, the further I got into pony space.

Finally, Brian gather up my reins and clucked to me and we were off!  

more to come...

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