Pony Play

Chapter 2-1

Pony Play

By J.M. Snyder

I first met Sean when we were both freshmen

in college, eight years ago, but why we’re still friends is beyond

me. He’s everything I’m not—skinny, for starters, with a lingering

gawkiness that reminds me of Dungeons & Dragons. Maybe

his love of RPGs is part of the reason he joined a local bondage

group. I’m not into whips and chains and leather, God knows. I like

my s*x of the vanilla variety—no dress-up role-play for me.

Standing against the wall and taking it from behind are as kinky as

I want to get.

So it surprised me when Sean called me one

evening, all excited about a weekend affair his bondage group was

putting on. More surprising still, he wanted me to go, too. “I’m

not into that crap,” I told him. I almost felt offended that he’d

asked.

But he laughed and said, “How do you know,

Drew? You can’t say for certain until you’ve tried it.”

“Oh, hell no,” I replied. “The thought of

someone ordering me around to do degrading s**t like lick their

toes pisses me off. No way I’m doing that.”

Sean assured me, “It’s so not like that. See?

You’ve got the wrong idea about the whole thing. It’s not even a

slave weekend. It’s pony play. You’ll love it.”

“I’m not into horses,” I told him.

“You don’t have to be,” he insisted. “Pony

play is a form of S&M—”

“Stop right there,” I said. “That’s all I

need to hear to know I’m not interested.”

“Come on,” he begged. “Listen to me

before you say ‘No.’ Basically, all you do is dress up like a pony,

okay? That’s it.”

Skeptical, I asked, “And do what?”

“Whatever your master says.”

That’s the part I had a problem with. “Look,

Sean,” I began, “thanks for thinking of me, really, but I can think

of better things to spend my weekend doing than carrying some fat

lard-ass around on my hands and knees just because he has a riding

crop in his hand.”

Sean persisted. “Let me tell you, Drew, some

major studs are into pony play. Believe me. Guys who are into

cowboys and sports. Guys like you. And you know

there’s going to be s*x. There has to be.”

That got my attention. I didn’t have a steady

boyfriend, didn’t even know how to go about finding one, and

couldn’t clearly remember the last time I got laid. “You sure

there’ll be guys my type there?” I asked. Maybe I could at least

try it.

I heard the smug sound of victory in Sean’s

voice. “Oh, yeah. Jocks are totally into pony play, I’m telling

you.”

Part of me wondered if he meant to say

jockey instead, but I didn’t press it. “And it’s not totally

hetero? Because I’m not having some leather b***h boss me

around.”

“It’s everything,” Sean assured me. “Women

and men, straight, gay, lesbian, all types. These weekend deals

bring out everyone. So you’re going, right?”

I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of

hearing me say yes, so I growled into the phone, “All I’m saying is

I better get some d**k out of this. You hear me?”

Sean promised, “You will.”