The Tie me up Tuesday prompt for this week is Taking It Outdoors.
This happened to coincide with a planned walk on Dartmoor with Loki, with potential for some time in bondage and some more images for the collection. Surprisingly I didn’t much feel like tying outdoors, or anywhere, though
we he decided to go for a short walk with no pressure. He knows what good comes from me being under the big sky. We ended up having a lot of fun, and the photos… well, there were some great ones. I was very excited to share one, or should I share another? Or what about that one?
As it turns out, I changed my mind entirely. While chatting to ML over the weekend I was reminded of a story, which fits in with my trip down memory lane, and I thought that would make a fun tale to share here.
I have been tying outdoors for almost as long as I have been self tying. Each new set of ropes gets tested out somewhere new. It was a great excuse to get out and walk far, at a time when I felt the need to have a reason. I could explore the surrounding countryside away from the pressures of home and in isolation from people.
One such trip took me to Bench Tor.
A wonderful tor that sits high above the double dart gorge. A clear view right back along the ridge so I knew that I would have plenty of time to remove rope should other intrepid explorers show up. But I was quite sure they wouldn’t. I had rarely seen anyone near here on my previous visits, the only inkling of civilisation were the yelps of joy that funneled up from the river far below, children playing in the permanently chilly waters of the Dart.
Well prepared, as always, I unpacked my bag. Removing my flask of tea and snack, my book and a big jumper, safety shears and a few hanks of the all important rope. I breathed in the warm, damp early autumn air and looked out over the moors. I’m always grateful of the escape this tiny wilderness offers, to find myself among the weather worn rocks.
With a cursory glance over my shoulder I find the bight and begin.
One double column tie neatly in place and I hear voices.
It is strange indeed, there is no-one coming along the ridge. I must be hearing the excited children below, enjoying the final farewell of a long hot summer? I continue, tying the second one quicker. I’m unsure if that is nerves about the voices or the confidence flowing back into my fingers.
And there are the voices again. I look back and note there is still nobody there, but the voices sound louder somehow, if slightly muffled. Deciding they must be walking along the path that climbs from the gorge floor to the field a quarter of a mile to my right I continue. This time, securing my bare feet. I am tightly bound, barely any wiggle room. Secure, smiling and sparkly.
But I can’t get those voices out of my ears.
I can still hear them. Nervously glancing around in case I have foolishly missed some naked sun worshippers I suddenly spot something bobbing around by the edge of the tor. It is red, and round, and plastic. Just as quickly it is joined by a second one, blue this time. And a third. Green. Then a coil of rope was tossed over the precipice from below and I realised, just in the nick of time, that I was about to be joined by some climbers.
Flinging the jumper over my legs, picking up my book and pouring a cuppa from my flask I sat back in the sunshine, and flashed them a smile when they appeared in full. To all intents and purposes I was just a woman relaxing in nature. Or that is what I thought they would see.
I watched them hank up their long climbing ropes, and secure their carabiners to their harnesses. A constant muffled chatter passing between the group. They mooched off along the ridge and disappeared from sight once more. I was all alone again, free to enjoy my ropes in peace.
I took a moment to run my fingers over the rope kisses after removing my leg bindings.
Almost immediately I decided on a quick foot to neck tie. Using the double column around my feet and joining up to a basic (and very loose) noose around my neck. It wasn’t as scary or risky as it sounds, and should probably be made clear I was at no risk. Well, no greater than any other tie I may have been doing on my own up there. Regardless, it didn’t feel the best, and the sun was starting to drop out of the sky so I untied, and started to pack up after finishing my flask of tea and eating my snack.
At this point one of the climbers came back along the ridge.
He crouched down next to me and struck up a conversation. He had got back to his van and was worried that perhaps I… wasn’t OK? It was probably a fair check in, and it was certainly much appreciated. I was an emotional wreck at this point, and my skin was sallow, pasty looking. My eyes nestled deep in their shady sockets. It makes me sad to see that woman in the (few) pictures that I have of me at that time. Reassured he went on his way, with me not five minutes behind him. Anyway, he showed me a great kindness that day.
So that is my tale of tying outdoors.
Head on over to Tie Me up Tuesday to see what other people made of the prompt.