“I think so,” I grinned.“Probably not.But I’d better get a glimpse into life at the Braided Crop Ranch so I can formulate an action plan.”
We headed the other way down the hall, past what looked like a cafeteria, to a door at the back, which Adam pushed open onto a wide, wrap-around porch.
“Wow,” I said as we stepped out.Green grass stretched ahead of us, bordered by thick forest and interspersed with several wood structures.
“This is it,” Adam said.
“It’s beautiful.What a perfect spot for a—I mean, holy shit.”
We walked across the porch and down the three steps.
“I’ll take you to the grooming barn, first.You can see the space where our stable hands prepare the ponyboys.”
My mouth went dry.“Okay.”
As we crossed the first stretch of grass to a large, square building, my eyes were drawn to distant figures in one of the paddocks.I couldn’t distinguish anything but movement and the number of people, which seemed to be three.
“Looks like one of the trainers has ponyboys outside already,” Adam said.He pointed to a door on one end of the wooden structure marked PONIES.“This is where the ponyboys go to get undressed and ready for the session.”He pulled open the door and gestured for me to enter.
I stepped into something reminiscent of a gym changing area.One wall was lined with lockers and long benches, and hooks for bags or wet coats.Three pairs of shoes were left undone on one of the benches—a set of dusty red chucks, a pair of brown Blundstones and some orange flip-flops, presumably belonging to the ponyboys in action this morning.
“There are two sessions per day.One in the morning and another in the afternoon.Ponyboys are assigned to one or the other each week,” Adam explained.He gestured for me to follow him around a short wall to the other side of the grooming barn, where I was brought up short by the sight of three showerheads over a tiled floor space.
“Whoa,” I said.“Jesus.”
My eyes were drawn to the rubber wrist cuffs hanging above each one.
“They’re bound in here?Naked?”I said, mouth dry, and brain already processing images of water-soaked flesh.
Adam nodded.“Oh, yes.It helps get them into the submissive headspace they need for their training sessions.They become ponies being groomed, rather than people taking showers.”
“I see.”Or rather, Iwouldsee.And I would take photos of the ponyboys from the moment they stepped out of the changing area to the moment they went back to it, if I was permitted.
I tore my eyes from the shower area.“I’ll be able to photograph them in here?”
He nodded.“In this section, yes.Not in the changing space.”
“Sure.Of course.”
The finishes were high-end.The larger room looked like a strange sort of spa or physio clinic, with a wall of cupboards and drawers, a large table strewn with harnesses and other gear in the midst of being cleaned, and a large whiteboard with names and what looked like instructions scrawled in black marker.
The door at the other end of the building opened and a woman with red hair in a ponytail came inside.She was a tiny thing, and not what I expected to see in the grooming barn at a gay ponyplay ranch.
“Hey Adam," she beamed.
“Liv,” Adam said, “I wondered where everybody was.”
“Sorry.I had to get some more supplies.”She had an armful of bottles.“You know, we really need to put this stuff on tap or something."
Adam laughed.“That’s not a bad idea.”
She threw me a grin and her eyes flashed with intelligence.“You must be Oliver.Welcome to the Braided Crop Ranch.”
I moved forward and extended my hand.“That’s me.”
“Nice hat.”
“Thanks.I forgot to bring one.”
