- Upton Rand
- Apr 24
- 10 min read
Updated: Sep 1
Once upon a time, there was an adventurer. He scrounged seemingly to the end of the earth to find the most unexpected places he could connect with others. His desire to feel connection had led him down some interesting paths. From bathhouse visits to camping trips to coffee shops. All of his experiences he wrote about in his books to encourage others to live life boldly. The adventurer felt different, like he didn't really fit in anywhere. It left him feeling alone many days, propelling and fueling his adventures. The adventurer in our story had learned he was a demisexual after he achieved long-fought freedom. This meant that he had to have a connection to experience sexual gratification fully. Naturally, an orgy isn't the place you'd expect our adventurer to go looking for connection. But the demisexual believed in saying yes to new experiences no matter how judgemental his peers might be. Nervous, the adventurer signed up as a stablehand, not knowing what to expect, but curious where it might lead. He was surprised to hear back from the stable master (the event organizer) with a prompt invitation. The first invitation that was sent out, in fact. The adventurer had been warned he might not be selected as a volunteer, and not to let it discourage him. It made him feel pretty special being a first choice of all the applicants. It made him feel seen. In a strange way, he felt accepted, a feeling our adventurer craved. The twist is this isn't a story; I’m that adventurer, and this wasn't just a story. It was my Saturday two weeks ago volunteering at a gay orgy known as Horse Market. I'm Upton Rand, and I'd like to invite you to hear exactly how this story ends.
So you probably really want to know what it was like; hell, I did. That’s why I went. I’m a firm believer that the best things in life can only occur if you take chances and say yes. So many of us are built and operate on fear- fuck that. Life is too short. It was in that spirit that I dove in, and had one of the most wild, unique Saturdays of my life. This post is graphic in parts, so family members turn back now. You’ve been warned. The very first thing I did when I learned I was chosen to work at Horse Market was go on their website and read actual stories from people who had participated. So if you've never heard of Horse Market, let me lay it all out.
Horse Market is the hottest international Orgy that you may have never heard of. Here’s the concept. There are 4 rolls in attendance at every event. So listen (or read) up.
Mares
Stallions
Stable Hands
a Stable Master
So you’re probably wondering what the difference is between the 4 roles. Let me break it down. At Horsemarket, there is one stable master who runs the event, and many stable hands staff the event. The Mares are the bottoms, and the stallions are the tops. But here’s the twist. If you're a mare— a bottom— you're blindfolded with a thick red hood the entire time, or a white one. Red meant that the mare preferred bareback; white meant they wanted rubber. I didn't see a single white hood in the house that night! I had signed up to volunteer as a stable hand. I showed up around 2 p.m. I met the stable master, and checked in for my shift. I was walked to the back “play area" where rows of leather slings were evenly distributed across the peripheral of a huge warehouse. The floor was concrete, cool, and the air hung thick with testosterone; they'd had an event the previous night.
What about you? Would you try Horse Market?
0%Yeah- in a heartbeat! Sounds amazing!
0%I'd rather just read about your experiences Upton.
Within minutes, I was carrying leather sex furniture, shifting it into new areas. It was like a sexually driven feng shui. The stable master artfully told us where he wanted items and they were reorganized. As I continued moving the furniture around, eventually, I looked up to the man carrying the miscellaneous furniture that stood across from me and were helping carrying the furniture. Meaning the other stable hands. I felt safe all of a sudden, and in my element. My day job being in a workshop, I find it impossible to just sit back and do nothing if guys are moving stuff. I am like compelled to join in. Don’t ask me why. As we moved items I began talking to the stable hand across from me, he was a gorgeous paramedic. He was a great local guy not far from me.
The volunteers all had different appearances and styles. I could see this wasn’t an accident. Obviously, appearance had taken a large role in the selection process. While they were all gorgeous, we fell cleanly into different niches. The quiet Asian, the playful pups, the pierced leather King, the tall blonde all-American dad (that would be me, lol), and I was all there representing. It was incredibly cool to get to talk to all the stable hands and hear their stories. Some were first-timers like me. One guy literally wrote books designed for events like Horsemarket. Believe me, I took notes from him! I hadn’t eaten in 36 hours going into this event, so I could be sure without hesitation I was ready for anything that might come my way just in case I decided to hop in. I even got a one hour crash course on preparing to bottom for events like these from a grand master.
As the beginning of the event grew closer, the stable hands and I split into our individual groups. I was in coat check. So there were 3 of us. We met up, shortly before speaking, and organized a system for keeping checked bags separated as the stallions came in. This leads me to the second critical point of the horse market. Prior to the event beginning, a completely steel crash gate was dropped by the stable master which landed on the concrete with a loud bang. Which suddenly separated the entire stable area (the dungeon with the slings and furniture). Half of the stable hands were on one side, the other half were on the other. At this point, I didn’t really understand what was going on.
I was still catching up, but the reason for this was to allow for 2 separate entrances. All of the stallions checked in on my dungeon’s side. I stood at a table in a red LED blinking lanyard. Meanwhile, on the opposite end of the crash gate, the mayors were entering at that entrance, completely obscured from the stallions, and being attended to by the other half of the stable hand. One by one, some of the most beautiful tops I'd ever seen in my life started trickling in. Now, this wasn't all a surprise. The stable master gave us a surprisingly in-depth run-down prior to this, that you could tell he'd done once or twice before. :-)
I'm a control freak, and a demisexual guys. So seeing the unspoken planning that went into all of this and the stable master’s professionalism really put me at ease. After around 20 minutes, the stable master, who had a cadence and authority similar to a ring master at a circus, pulled open the crash gate and said, “Alright stallions you paid a lot of money to be here get your moneys worth!”. Suddenly the Mares and Stallions found themselves in the same space. The crash gate being the only thing segregating them was removed.
No words could’ve prepared me for what I saw next. It was as if god had manifested his most beautiful specimens, placed them skillfully in red hoods, and laid them out on sex furniture, most with ass high in the air. The stallions wandered in their hands freely exploring any mare they chose. Most of the stallions smiled, some snorted, and they casually walked into the newly unsegregated “stable." After around 10 minutes, I heard yells and grunts, followed by “ many man oh fucks." The stallions had begun doing what comes naturally and breeding the obedient mares. And the loads were dropping quicker than the beads of sweat dripping off the obedient mares.
It was made super clear coming in that we would be allowed breaks, meaning we could join in if we wanted. My position was unique because coat check was really busy in the beginning and then slowed down dramatically once our stallions were checked in. So I wandered around after asking the other coat check guys if they minded watching the bags. The dungeon was full, maybe 30 mares and 30 stallions.
So what was it like? Imagine that hottest kinky porn come to life. The kind with the pulsating club music and a blindfolded model with the perfect body, ass high in the air, just swallowing whichever cocks came by. This was horsemarket, and the anonymity was the draw. That porn had come to live and was inches from me. My heart raced in excitement.
As I circled the room, I looked down and saw hooded mares moaning in ecstasy as they were mounted by powerful stallions and bred. As for the stallions, big, beefy, not a soft cock in the house. They were free to roam the entire stable and freely mount any mares they chose. It was so sexy.
As the event continued, I wore my light-up lanyard and circled the floor. Signaling to stallions I was a stablehand. It was made clear that no matter what our jobs, the top priority for all stablehands was the same. To keep the mares safe. I was functioning as their guardian and their eyes. Again, this wasn’t an accident.
I’m not here to share their trade secrets to get anyone in the door— sorry. I spoke to the stable master quite a bit before the event, and we still chat actually. He has an extremely clever way of determining this. He only invited people who passed this test. Meaning every single stable hand there shared my core philosophy and personality traits of operating in the world. We were all protectors in nature, every last stable hand. I wish I could share this because it’s pretty brilliant how he determines it, but just know he knows! While all of our physical appearances were important, us being natural protectors was the primary reason we were selected.
I wandered, I saw a mare in a leather and red hood sling being tag-teamed by two powerful, beefy tops that couldn't have been older than 30, with soft blond pubes reminiscent of my own. They were powerful and ruthless, stretching and bending the mare to their will. I stood there and watched, rubbing my manhood. I kept finding myself making eye contact with the stallion and smirking as the mare lay in the sling and accepted his cock without question. It was a once-in-a-lifetime site for most, but on this particular night, it was everywhere.
Slowly, the other two coat check guys wandered out on breaks and took their turn. They were hooded by a followable stable hand and talked out. Both came back extremely satisfied and happy. I was starting to feel comfortable. I had made some connections, I had spoken with other stable hands, and the trust I had needed before jumping into this was well established. Screw it, I said. I approached the stable master and reluctantly said, "I'd like to take my break as a mare. I must have looked so timid. Something strange happened, though. The stable master himself secured my hood, and when he did, all of my anxiety just melted away. There was something about being blindfolded. He walked me into the stable the way he had taught us to do with guests. He described it as the zombie hand ass grab. I had my arms slung over his shoulder like a zombie, and he reached around and grabbed my bare cheeks, talking to me the whole way and steering me with my cheeks as skillfully as a Lamborghini weaving between traffic on the 405. Finally, setting me up on a piece of furniture he knew I felt comfortable with as I'd moved it earlier that night. He asked if I was comfortable. The next thing I heard, “Alright, fresh meat," and I knew what I needed to do. Keep my ass high in the air, and wait. Hooded in the darkness, not a flash of light came through the expertly tied red hood. Suddenly, I felt a strange heat in the air around me. I knew I wasn't alone. I felt a hand firmly slap my ass, and I realized I had some attention. I felt a stallion behind me; in the air to my left, I could hear breathing and the smell of poppers floated in the air. "Are you ready?" the stallion behind growled in my ear.
This was it, my last chance to back out. "I'm ready,” I said. And I felt his huge head press against my hole and gently penetrate. Slowly, it slid all the way. It was a good first one, not too big, not too small. Then something unexpected happened. The phantom stallion snorting poppers must have gotten excited; his cock suddenly slapped my face. I eagerly began sucking and held tightly to his calves as I was drilled. After around 4 minutes, the stallion’s thrusts began getting deeper, and a powerful grunt signaled he had flooded me with his Thoroughbred seed. He slapped my ass and pulled out as it ran down my thigh. I caught a quick breath, basking in the tranquility, and then another larger cock slid in. Further dilating me. Unlike the first, this one gave no workup, but I was ready. He started hard and finished strong. Slamming into me so hard all I could do was hold onto the wooden horse I was squatted on like a motorcycle and pray it held me up. A new stallion approached the other side of my head as well. I could tell the same 3 stallions all rotated, taking turns pumping precum into me. After around an hour, I was left exhausted, head buried in leather, used, and satisfied. I must have accepted 4-5 loads.
While I do need the connection to orgasm myself as a demisexual, the sensation of being used as a toy and not knowing drove me kind of wild. I gently raised my hand and said I believed my break was over and would like to tap out.
I was talked from the stable to the dressing area for mares by another stable hand. I felt butterflies in my stomach. Only I would catch feelings in a place like this lol! All the guys were truly gorgeous, with great personalities. Alas, the stable party is not the place to fall in love. Haha. The night was beginning to slow down. Stallions fully drained, happily got dressed, and left smiling. Now I have no idea how many loads I took that night. I will say I used 2 forms of prep, and doxycycline, which lifted a lot of my fear of jumping into the one-time event. It was unexpectedly amazing, and overall one of the most interesting and unique Saturdays of my life. The stable master had an amazingly diverse group of stable hands, all looks, all gorgeous in their unique way. I immediately knew that wasn't an accident, and I couldn’t help but feel that part of me had found my tribe.
This is an event that a lot of planning clearly went into with the guest list. I didn't come across a single asshole while I was there, except the ones in the air dripping cum. All of the volunteers were amazing, and the experience was amazing. Horsemarket changed my perspective on everything I thought sex could be or should be. It was an amazing experience. The camaraderie I felt with the other stable hands was undeniable. Many I still speak with! I'm hoping I'm invited back next year, because in a lot of ways, driving home, it felt like I found a part of my tribe that Saturday. No regrets at all.
