Marie Claire Australia - 01.05.2018

(Ben Green) #1
68 marieclaire.com.au

PHOTOGRAPHY BY GETTY IMAGES.

for children and animals. I enjoyed pleasing her, but,
at the same time, I wondered if I really wanted to be
treated like an actual animal.
I didn’t feel empowered by my small pony play
scene. Yes, the experience turned me on, but it also
made me uncomfortable. I stayed away from pony play
for years after that.
But, in the BDSM community you learn to reserve
judgement and approach things you don’t understand
with an open mind. And so, inevitably, I was tempted
to try it again.
At a recent kink-themed conference, two of the
presenters were nationally renowned pony play experts


  • one a gruf cowboy, the other a petite, lively woman;
    let’s call her Grace. They agreed to teach me how to be a
    pony. I wondered, could the act be empowering? And
    less dehumanising?
    Some “ponies” simply enjoy dressing up and elabo-
    rate fetish wear. Others enjoy being groomed. Some pull
    carts while others like to be ridden. Then there are
    jumping competitions and simulated fox hunts.
    That night I would be led through the dungeon as a
    pony. I stripped down to a bra and panties, and the
    cowboy fitted me in a leather body harness with an
    attached tail and a headpiece with a mane. The head-
    piece had a bridle that clipped to a set of reins and a bit.
    I admit I felt sexy as this pony-human hybrid. With
    the bit between my teeth, communication was diicult.
    The cowboy placed a leather hood over my eyes so I
    could see only the ground in front. To him, pony play
    was all about the pony relinquishing control and
    ofering him complete trust. He gave me commands
    by pressing on my back, telling me to switch between
    a walk and a trot. By pulling on the reins, I knew
    when to stop or turn.
    As soon as we got back from the dungeon, we ran
    into Grace and I switched to her bridle and bit to test
    out being a beast with her. Grace told me I could only
    communicate with her as a pony. She neighed and I
    neighed back. If something was wrong, she told me to
    stamp my foot. I tried it out. I liked this physical lan-
    guage. Not speaking is a way of letting go.
    Other ponies I’ve spoken to say that when they role-
    play, they cease being themselves. They’re an object,
    an animal. It’s about the experience of being free, wild
    or “other”. I haven’t yet reached that headspace.
    But then I met K. I had heard he was one of the only
    active ponies in my city, so I reached out to him after the
    conference and asked if he would be interested in meet-
    ing me at a local bar. He showed up wearing a black
    latex suit, boots shaped like horse hooves and a leather
    horse mask. We left to get tacos, then drinks. With his
    permission, I picked up his tail and played with the end.
    It made him blush and eye me with a grin. We kissed
    and nuzzled each other’s necks, kind of like ponies.
    In the past, when people asked me if pony play
    was a sexual thing, I told them I didn’t think so. I was
    worried about what it would mean to be sexualised as
    an animal. Was the concept akin to bestiality?


And yet that night, when K and I slept together, I
gave myself permission to dig into that primal part of
myself. I imagined two strong horses and their instincts
to breed. Two animals attracted to each other
and simply going at it.
I bit his lip and he groaned. Primal. He fucked
me from behind. Animal. We nuzzled and touched
foreheads, and the animal parts of us and the human
parts of us blended together. He was a stallion and
I was a mare, and I couldn’t help wondering what I
had been so worried about.
Sex – good sex – activates us on so many levels. It
can be sweet, intimate and raw all at the same time.
The next day, we went to see a movie. Afterwards, at
a bar, while talking about jobs and families, he asked
me, “Do you want to be my mare?”
I asked him what that would look like, and he
shrugged and grinned. “I think we have a lot we can
learn from each other,” he said.
I wasn’t yet ready to sign on but I, too, was curious
what we could learn from each other. So, instead of an
answer, I nuzzled his neck, and he whinnied back.

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