Photo by Bob Cooney

Friday
We talked a few times before we met at Kinky Salon. Which only made sense because we were performing together that evening. She was the Vinyl Queen, and I am not one to argue.

I saw Her there when she reached the top of the stairs. That is when Scott, the Master of ceremonies, reached out and took my hand and placed it in Hers as he introduced us.

I managed to say the proper thing and then made an attempt to regain my composure. She was much more than I expected. Her presence had passed the first line of my defenses, now to see if She passed the rest of my prerequisites for play.

We met again in the pink room as contradictory as ever. You see, we were both almost fully clothed and this room was meant to be nudist only. This is where everyone got his or her freak on. So we went through in detail just how we would provide a show for the partygoers this fine Friday night.

This gave us the excuse to check each other out without allowing any nervous energy (on my part, mostly, I am sure). After we got comfortable with what we were going to do, we sat back and waited for our chance to be real. I hadn't expected this. I could give myself to this One. It was something I hadn't felt in some time for a Dominant Woman or for any woman for that matter. I held myself back from almost every single one of them. I could never feel safe enough to just be… they made me try, which was a sure way to disaster. I felt pressure to perform with them. Irony? What's that?

So I marveled in this new possibility as I listened to the muffled squirming coming from behind us. A couple had slipped in, you see, to give us some background noise as we waited. Much better than Musak any day, I must say. They pressed into each other, trying in vain to become one. Such a pretty sound… it made me smile.

Then we were on. I came out first to mix with the audience and flirt with the girls. I tried to put out guy body language but it was difficult for me to do because of this new distraction. She would come out the door soon and she did.

Photos by Arthur McCabre

I stood there in my pinstripe pants and matching vest with suspenders hanging down from my belt loops. She turned me around and looked into my eye and promptly knocked the bowler off of my head. Then she reached and pulled my pants down around my ankles. I stepped out of them to reveal white fishnet stockings and the cutest little pale pink thong. She reached down as She stood up and grabbed my fuzzy, pink, baby doll hat with the ears. She pulled it down on my head when She stood up and looked at me.

Next She held out the white fishnet, tutu style petticoats for me to step into. As daintily as I could I did just that and then she pulled them up around my waste where they belonged. I twisted my hips a little to make them twirl and put elbows in and boobs out for Her to see and she grabbed me by the hair and pushed me down to my knees showing me her black phallus in its leather harness. So I looked up in that girly way and let my tongue slip out to caress the tip provocatively. Then my lips made a cushion that I pressed against the ever-hard tip. Suddenly She forced my mouth open with a handful of hair and a push of her hand.

I managed to say,"Umphhh," with my throat full of silicone.

So back and forth, back and forth I ran her "cock" between my open lips and my eyes rolls back in my head. In that moment I reveled in what I was doing and was just leaning into a really good feeling and without any warning She flung me to the floor and left me there…. wanting. Sitting on the floor, in the middle of the crowd, all looking down at little vulnerable me. *POUT*

I was supposed to get up and flirt with all the guys at the end (get the gender switch *curtsy*) but the best I could manage was to go to my Master and blush in His arms.

Gender is such a silly thing. It really shouldn't matter so much. It is just something fun to play with. We worry way too much about it. I have come to believe. It should only be a funny difference we see in each other no matter what the genitalia we are born with. It was so cool to represent everything I am or can be. Truth be told I am mostly if not all girl. I can feel that again but everyone has both yen and yang.

She came back and found me after everything had died down. We sat and talked as we watched the couples play on the equipment provided by Jens Sandmann. As we watched we went through our checklists, checking each other out and looking for flaws in our plan. As we went down and found the bottom (of O/our list) together I think we were both slightly surprised (I think). Few people get in that far -- at least for me. I do so want to change that. I want to trust more people but trust is hard to come by in a world where others are seeking to take the advantage.

Photos by Arthur McCabre

So then we wandered and explored the party on our own. It was a lighter number than usual for Kinky Salon since it was a Folsom weekend event. There is always so much going on in the city for fetishists on this weekend.

Later we found each other and I did a little boot worship for the camera. Which was more than delish. Then we found it was time to go and so we made our goodbyes. I left with my Master and She made her own way. What an interesting day.

I think about her as I go to sleep. She understood the most important thing. She understood that I couldn't serve someone I couldn't respect… and so we build.

Note to self: buy new bowler. It got trampled. *Re-pout *

Saturday
A day for my Master and for my hair, we didn't quite make the Citadel as planned, unfortunately. It was the last night they were open to the public before they moved to their new location. Master decided to have me to himself for the evening instead. The truth is, I must go in spurts at best. My history precludes me from excess. Diabetes is what's for breakfast and it makes (makes is the key word here) a great diet but it is never recommended. It was a huge adjustment to make among all the others. I am a delicate pony in truth. Excess doesn't become me, which is yet another story.

Sunday, a day that will live in infamy... (At least I hoped)
Coming into the fair, one cannot help but experience the joys of parking. We circled like vultures in slow concentric circles outward from the fair as far as my high heels could bear. Parking is the first and best argument for getting to the fair early. With over 300,000 people present, parking is at a premium. We found a space close enough not to intimidate my tootsies, thanks to my tiny Barbie car, and made our way into the heart of the beast itself.

We entered from the north gate and the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence were in attendance as always to help with taking of the money. I held out my saddlebag to receive the mandatory (pun intended) sticker. I raised my gaze to take in the crowd as I walked past the stage. Earlier a friend's band, Cuir Bleu, had just been up on that stage. The original plan included me as a backup singer, but pony couldn't make the rehearsals. Logistically I had to bow out gracefully as I could.

Why was I covered again? I asked my Master to stop and I removed my cape. I was wearing not much at all underneath. The leather cat ears I made complete with barbed wire (barbed wire goes with everything) were on my head, a leather thong, my Stormy Leather waist cincher, thigh highs 'n' heels, and I'm off. (More than you could know) I almost forgot the fingerless, fishnet gloves and my red geisha parasol. Accessories are so important, don't you think? Most important was the choke chain collar. It is my oldest collar and my favorite. I bought it in 1997 in Overland Park, Kansas, at Petland, at 2 o'clock in the afternoon, wearing red contact lenses. (GRRRR)*sticking tongue out*

Pop open my parasol (form and function, I didn't want to get a sunburn), and look at all the cameras… * blush *

And we 're walking… (Insert tour guide here)

Almost immediately I ran into a friend, Pamela, a beautiful and striking glass artist. She was selling glass pipes, and my Master couldn't resist. He purchased the most expressive little devil. Pamela was what I was most interested in. Her shiny raven black hair made a perfect contrast to mine. *ponder* Certain women make me tongue-tied and she was one of the worst. Moi? At a loss for words? Yes… unfortunately this means I babble incessantly with the words at hand.

And just to illustrate my dorkdom, I wasn't sure it WAS Pamela so I babbled all the harder. I hadn't seen her in months. *Sigh* I AM a dork. Do I have any other choice? I promised her she could go Wonder Woman on my ass next time she sees me.

And we're walking…

Photo by Bob Cooney

We made our way into the fair to our planned rendezvous point with Charles Gatewood. We barely get into the real mix of the fair and Bob Cooney, a photographer I had met on Tribe.net, taps me on the shoulder and says, "Tori."

And so it begins…

The cameras. A few had impeded my progress to this point -- but now...

Bob had brought a treat, her name was Laura. We posed for the camera and we twisted tongues for it. *Grin* Then we were off.

And we're walking…

Join my quest for beer. I needed some lubrication for my wheels but my saddlebag slipped off my shoulder and I had to stop in the middle of the intersection and as I looked up, they were everywhere, cameras. A circle rapidly formed around me as I raised my parasol and said, "Master?" but He was gone. He hadn't seen me stop. I definitely needed that beer, as I started to blush. So I said so and ducked out as fast as I could towards beer… and then Master found me.

I got my beer and my composure. I hadn't been the center of so much attention since Folsom 2000 and then I couldn't even look at the crowd. I hid my eyes in the crook at Masters arm until he led me out to put me through my paces. *Quiver* when I was done I hid until the crowd dispersed. I couldn't have handled it then and even now it was so incredibly flattering, humbling, intimidating.

The next few hours were a blur of camera lenses and nodding thank you-s, posing with guys and girls, dogs, I even french kissed a mask. I wonder where that will end up?

Pony need MORE beer… uuuuuuUUUUUUUhhhhhh

And we're walking…

...to Cat's Club to hang out in front. I posed some more. It made it hard to talk to all of my friends in little clumps all around me. I posed. The cameras were three deep at some points. Scott, of Kinky Salon, said I had to be the most photographed person at the fair this year. Polly was wearing sunflowers and giving me Kansas flashbacks. The colors the colors…

Now all bets were off. So we dove into the bar, jamming to the eighties flashback sound attack. I jump in the cage and let it all hang out as I danced like a stripper. (It's a gift) I couldn't help but close my eyes to the beat and groove as I felt my body move and I trusted it. I had my friend Pixie in the cage with me at first, which helped keep the boys at bay. I seemed to attract a lot of attention. Oh, what an exhibitionist am I. They slowly moved in. Guys hung on the outside of the cage. I danced until the circle tightened and I slipped out for a breather and a beer just in the nick of time. Who is Nick, anyway?

Photo by Arthur McCabre

Back in the cage I went, and I swam to the groove in my own sweat, but this time I was alone. They jumped in the cage in turns trying to make me… well, make ME. *Squirm * and here is the rub, whom do I choose? Wow?, so many… how does a girl decide without leaving someone out? It could be so overwhelming that I just didn't know what to do, but this year was special. I seemed to reach a new level of popularity. I was real again, and everyone could feel it. I was the center of the lens and I owned it, definitely a monumental day in the life of a pony.

What did we learn today? That I don't have to be shy and that I'm not in Kansas any more. Next year it will be more about the sex, BDSM (and being a pony *crossed fingers *) and less about the cameras. I conquered that monkey. I'm not a model. I'm actual size.

When we left the cameras insisted on capturing my sweaty goodness. I stuck out my tongue for them and smiled blearily. A gentleman grabbed me around the waist and tried to acquire my company for the evening. I referred him to my wish list on my web site. There are ways into my life -- but it was pumpkin time. This pony took off her heels and carried them. It had been a long glorious day. We never did see Gatewood.

When we walked by some people after we got outside the fair they yelled to my Master, "You should carry her!" and I giggled, little did they know…

I'M DA PONY!

Note to self: notes to self in the middle of an article aren't really notes to yourself, now are they?

EvilPonyGirl's Folsom Fair Weekend - by Tori Ann McCabre, aka EvilPonyGirl

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