At least, that was the theory.
I took a collection of long shots as the ponyboys were rubbed and scrubbed to cleanliness as my practical mind appreciated the thoroughness of the stable hands and marvelled at the way the men were treated like animals to be groomed and prepared for their trainers.It was a wonderful way to get them into the service headspace needed for their sessions.
“Is it all right if I come in closer, Adrian?”
“Sure,” he said, giving me a glance.
He glided a wet cloth over Teagan’s captive privates as the large ponyboy closed his eyes and widened his legs to allow the stable hand ample access.
I crouched and took shot after shot of Adrian’s skilled fingers as he cleaned Teagan, front and back, then got several different angles of the ponyboy’s plump buttocks and solid legs.
Then I moved on to Lincoln, who waited patiently for one of the stable hands to be done with the others and attend to him.He watched me out of curious eyes, saliva beginning to slide down his chin from the gag.Seeing these men like this was a trip–more so than anything I’d experienced at other fetish shoots.There was an authenticity about it.It wasn’t simply people playing dress-up and experimenting with a casual power exchange.
I was the recipient of many curious glances from the ponyboys and even the stable hands, since it was my first morning, and they hadn’t yet gotten used to my presence.I hoped to become a part of the landscape eventually, so that I could effectively record what went on at the ranch without becoming a part of it.I was paid to be an observer.I truly wanted to be a fly on the wall when I was behind my camera.
When I wasn’t behind my camera, I’d continue to try to blend in so I’d get an honest idea of the workings of this unique place.I planned to keep a diary of my experiences, so besides the photos, I’d have a personal record of this very unique opportunity.
If I could record, in words and images, even a half of what I’d seen and felt so far, I’d be richer for it.
