Apr 142009

There are lots of kinks I’ve not fully explored.  Some because of a lack of interest, some because they are a bit esoteric or don’t really grab me or some because I just haven’t gotten around to them.


Could I have been ANY more fucking adorable? No. I couldnt!

Could I have been ANY more fucking adorable? No. I couldn't!

As a performer, role-playing is a fairly easy BDSM scenario for me to embrace. Pretending and make-believe has been my second home since I was 5 years old and went on my first audition.  My first boyfriend and I used to have all sorts of silly scenarios we would play out, and so it has never been far from my sexuality.

 What WAS new to me was playing a non-human role.  OK, yes, I did play a flower under the troll bridge in “The Three Billy Goats Gruff” in the first grade, but that was a departure for me. I had not seriously considered the idea of reverse anthropomorphization prior to actively entering the kink community.  And even then, I thought “Well, if it does it for you, than great, but if not, why bother?”

 But trying and tasting is half the fun, is it not?

 My first exposure to animal role-play was through several friends who were pony and puppy play people. I certainly saw the appeal! You get loads of attention, you can behave as you wish, and correction is never personal, never damaging, and never harsh. Communication is simple, hand gestures or vocal cues are all an animal can rely on when hearing from their human “trainers” or “owners”

 I always found it delightful to watch people play in this headspace. Years ago, at a Black Rose event in DC, I remember walking through the dungeon and SWEARING I heard a horse in the other side of the space. It was, in fact, a human pony who had mastered, eerily, the sound of whinnying horse.

 I’ll never forget being in a private party with a friend very much into pony play and getting to play a bit while they were in pony space. To be honest I was very startled at the emotional and energetic change that overcame them, and how looking into their eyes was an entirely different experience than it was over supper several hours before. Something was definitely…shifted.

I have only had one glimpse into that realm myself once when attending one of the Bizarre Flea Markets hosted several times a year here in San Francisco by Lady Thorn. It is a fun place to hang out, browse toys and meet up with friends.  I was chatting with a friend near a table that displayed lots of pony play gear when a particularly elaborate piece caught my eye. As someone who loves costuming, I am always the “crow to a shiny object” when it comes to fancies.  This bridle and harness had the added draw of being unusual in its composition; it was made with brown suede, very beautifully crafted.

 The woman vending it looked at me, and looked back at the piece “You know, it is remarkable…that is almost exactly your skin color…”  I nodded absently, as I was mid conversation with my friend who suddenly squealed and threw the thing over my head insisting that I try it on.  I looked to the vendor for help, thinking this wasn’t a cool thing to do but alas, she was busily unbuckling the other side of the thing to run the straps over my forehead, around my ears and under my chin.  A miniature snaffle thudded against my teeth and within 30 seconds, I was sporting a soft brown horns nosed muzzle, perky ears, a miniature mane and bright red plumes.


 I felt pretty dumb.

“Oh my GOD you look AMAZING!!!” the vendor trilled

 “Yeah, of course…$475 worth of amazing if I fall for that…” I grumbled to me.

 The reins were tossed over my head and my friend, petite as she was, slapped my hip and ordered me over so she could ride.

 Bemused, I complied. Why not? We are all perverts here!


Well, on board she dug in her heels and I set off around the space, with people seeming quite amused at the display.

 “I didn’t know Mo did pony play?” I hear more than a few times as I trotted around, thankful that my friend had some riding experience and that my hips are pretty damned sturdy.

 At one point, we stopped and someone asked her if they could pet me. “Who the fuck do you thnk you are?! I am right here, hello!!” I thought.  I turned my head to one side to glare at them but the blinkers made this difficult without a whole body shift. Then the whole thing shifted. He hadn’t asked me if he could touch me, because…he didn’t have to. I wasn’t a speaking person, I was this role, and therefore vulnerable to the whims of my owner. Even more than a person in a submissive role, a person in an animal play role is dependant on their “keeper” for protection.

 As she gave her permission and the person stroked me mane and shoulders, approvingly patting my rump, I felt oddly soothed, arranging the bit in my mouth and just enjoying the attention. I’d never had the experience of tough being grated around my permission, and it was incredibly soothing, actually.

 Several more people decided they wanted to play, so of course I was soon stamping out my age with a “hoof” and tossing my head in delight at a particularly lovely “scritch”

 Alas, playtimes soon had to be over. The harness returned, the bit dropped into disinfectant and the seller offering me a really good deal on the outfit…if I wanted it.

 I wasn’t able to afford it that day, and besides…I’m not into pony play….

 …but every once in a while, I wish I had that harness, that soft nose, those perky ears, and perhaps a tail and hooves.

 Who doesn’t sometimes want to be the very special pet of a loving owner, if only for an afternoon?

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  4 Responses to “One Pony Trick.”

  1. You do make a good case for it, but it’s still very much in the “not for me” camp. Its still a kink that I really can’t quite wrap my head around being in either position – pet or owner. Neither side interests me.

    • Hey gorgeous!

      I don’t think I would care much for ownership…I find scooping cat poop and clipping their *&^%$ nails enough of a PITA I am sure I’d neglect the hell of of a human animal ;-P

      I am curious as to whether or not a full scene / session in that head-space would further expand it for me…or become sillier.




  2. This was an interesting thing to me…

    There’s something I don’t go into a lot on my blog, simply because it’s a little out there for most people. I don’t know if it’s neurological or spiritual or insanity or a combo of the above (my personal bet after a good deal of research is neurological), but I have a very strong animal identification.

    I’m not a furry, but I’m not knocking furries. At the risk of borrowing a distasteful cliche, some of my best friends are furries…

    I identify very much with big cats. Specifically, the leopard. I have all my life. When I say ‘I identify with…’ it really doesn’t cover it, because it’s deeper than that. The best way I can describe it is that I’m kind of sharing space in my head, though that’s not completely accurate either. ;) With me, it’s not a kink, or even a part of my kink (though when the cat makes an appearance during play, it’s a blast). This ain’t kitty play here, and I’m not sure if I’d actually enjoy kitty play…

    In any case, when I let that animal side of myself out around others, I get a similar-but-different sense of contentment…instead of becoming the role, I’m letting myself _be_ myself. It’s liberating, and it’s a pleasure I don’t allow myself often enough.

    In other words, you seemed to enjoy the role you played…then silly or not, _enjoy_ it. Take pleasure in it, and let others take pleasure in your playing of that role. Let yourself go and have _fun_ with it. :)

    (by the way, sorry for the long explanation for a relatively short comment; I figured this one needed a little background. *grins sheepishly*)

  3. ThomasKattus just sent me here to read your latest post about being fat in the BDSM community (Oh I feel ya there) and this caught my eye…
    Having a horse and all, I think I’d be pretty good at pony play. I was thinking, you know, I’d be a pretty good pony-keeper. But I hadn’t really considered playing the role of the horse. Hmm… part of me thinks, “that would be really fun, and I could play that role well,” and another part of me thinks, “My horse is like my kid and I might feel a little weird because of that.” The last part of me, the really bad part, thinks, “Hah, I could act the way a horse really acts!” *spooks at someone’s shoes! Bites an inattentive person’s butt! Slimes people’s shirts! Throws rider, runs off to grass!*

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