“A Beginning”


My introduction to ponygirls and pony play began six years ago as an entry on a play list given to me by my second Master.


“What is this?” I said. “I can’t rate it since I don’t know what it is, Sir.”


“I have a book with some pictures of this type of play in it I can show you. But I’m more concerned that you have never heard of it. Didn’t you read the Anne Rice Sleeping Beauty” Trilogy?”


“No. i’m not familiar with it,” I replied.


“Go to the bookstore and buy it this afternoon.” He commanded. “Start reading it. I want an essay on your favorite and least favorite scenes each day.”


Thus, my second exposure to pony girl play was my imaginative interpretation of a fictional novel. There was an arousing excitement about the idea of prancing like a pony and being taken thru tasks on an obstacle track. The thrill of the opportunity to perform well and being encouraged by a crop or whip seemed delightful. I could almost feel the sting of the whip and the rising welts on my thighs and back. It seemed like a lovely game to play. To be measured for an exact anal plug size for a tail seemed divine to me.


Years have past as I developed my skills as a submissive. However none of my play partners had ever trained ponygirls, so it was not a play activity I had an opportunity to develop. Then one day, I was browsing bdsm web sites and found some ponygirl photographs. I googled and found an interesting world of people who lived as ponygirls, being trained, pulling carts and having riders. I was taken with complete joy and envy of these women. The photographs showed the simplicity and service of a submissive to her Master. I was in love with the concept.


My love for these photographs and desire to experience being a ponygirl motivated me to set a course of action to make the dream real for me. I figured I needed the ponygirl gear to begin with and looked online for the outfits I had seen in the photographs. This was last December 2005, and to my dismay, the two top leather pony girl gear designers had died that year. The gear I saw in the photographs was not available.


With much effort, I found two harness makers. I am very petite in size. I could not “buy off the rack” as it were. First I tried sending measurements and including string I had wrapped around my crown, bust, waist, etc. so that the leather artists would be able to create the correct size. Ultimately, I had to send photographs with a tape measure marking the space between my nipples, the space from my shoulders to my nipples, etc. I now own two lovely harnesses, one I wear with a natural blonde horse hair butt plug and one that has the natural blond horse hair tail sewn onto it.


I’ll never forget the first time I tried on the two piece harness with the natural blonde horse hair tail sewn in an upswing position on the bottom harness. I loved the feel of natural tail, the coarse straight hair flowing thru my fingers sings to me. The tail flows long and sways beautifully. I stepped slowly and couldn’t help swishy my tail. Stepping, feeling the tail swishy behind me back and forth filled me with delight and joy and pride. Pride was a new feeling for me. I have watched gorgeous horses walk with such beauty and pride, swishy their tails gently behind them, and now I understood. My compliments to Slivers for the design of the tail and for the outfit being so sensual to wear.


In this package was also the head harness. As I slipped the slender leather straps over my head, it was pleasing that it fit exactly. I rarely am able to purchase anything that fits because of my small size. Slivers had done an amazing job. Then, I placed the bit in my mouth for the first time. I have worn ball gags in many sizes. This bit felt quite different, there was no struggle with it and I loved the way the design would surrender me to the person pulling reins attached to the harness.


Pony shoes for my foot size (4.5 to maybe a 5 if I wear thick socks) were another problematic situation. A company in Australia, which was recommended to me, had stopped production. Again I was online trying to find ponygirl boots, and then trying to find a pair in my size. I found a company in Germany who custom made the boots for me. They are leather with a wood sole and a real horse shoe on the bottom. As a shoe enthusiast, my heart beat increased when I tore into the package the day it arrived to open it. I had gone to the door looking for this package every day for 6 months. To hold them in my hands to try on was pure joy. The smell and feel of real leather, the long just under the kneecap boot with its tongue tacked to one side, the long laces to secure the boot, the sensations in my fingertips were swimmingly heavenly as I laced each boot.


There is a sharp reality that struck me when I laced up my boots and stood in them the first time. These are essentially toe shoes made into a boot. As I high stepped forward, up and back along my hallway, the discipline of what it would take to be a good ponygirl seemed overwhelming. I had to lift my legs up high to walk and keep balance. It isn’t something that obvious when you are just looking at photographs, but to walk properly, prance, be in pony girl in frame of mind is a discipline.


After a week of practicing walking at home, I decided the next step would be to walk in public, to attend a private bdsm club I had never gone to before as a ponygirl. I promised myself, I would be a pony for at least 90 minutes. I dressed at the club, with the exception of my head harness and high stepped into the main play room. I was greeted by a friendly Dom who accepted my request for assistance in buckling the head harness on.


The Dom asked me lots of questions before he secured the harness in place. He asked where was I from (San Francisco), how long I’d been in the life style (18 years), had I ever been a pony before (this was my first time), where did I get my gear (custom made), had I ever worn my gear in public before (no). Then the head harness leather was placed over my head and with the rubber bit in my mouth I was no longer able to talk. I was now a pony. The moment of being a pony is a startling reality. Much more present and a deeper state of mind than being a puppy for me. It was a peaceful moment, as if finding the state of mind of being home.


The Dom clipped on the lead rein in my hands to the head harness and gently pulled. Suddenly, my eyes blinked and I was startled with the reality that I was under control of the Dom holding the rein. The direction of the bit was where I was stepping. The Dom led me around the club. He introduced me and I greeted these new faces as a pony. I stood politely and I nodded when appropriate. Thankfully, the Dom had asked all those questions and was able to talk about me to the curious.


“I want you to greet that woman over there without me.”


I starred into his eyes. My mind raced. What would I do without words? I obeyed and high stepped over. As I reached her, she had turned to me as the sound of the clipping horse shoes on the floor heading towards her attracted her attention. I bowed my head and nudged her arm. She laughed with glee.


“I wish I had some sugar cubes to offer you, dear beauty,” she said.


How fun it was to be a ponygirl I thought. Now I understood what the attraction was and my life was transformed.


My journey as a ponygirl is still a fresh one. I desire to find a trainer to teach me how to become a true ponygirl. From my brief experience it is very clear this is a discipline, not an easy walk. My respect for ponygirls grew immensely in those 90 minutes.


A goal one works hard for is always so much sweeter when you achieve it. I look forward to that day and will treasure the journey.