the boy ties his leg in sadistic rope after the thunder storm

A Thunder Storm Can Change Everything

the boy ties his leg in sadistic rope after the thunder storm

When I saw the prompt for Wicked Wednesday was The Sound of Thunder I was immediately whisked away to a world where a long held fantasy is still bubbling away, as yet unrealised. To give head outdoors, in a thunder storm. But before I could start writing my brain went back to the first time I voiced that idea, and I marvelled at the difference in me over the 6.5 years that have passed. Indeed, I want to share a story that is so far removed from the woman I was then, and the woman I had become even three and a half years ago. The next part of my tale…

Since that thunder storm I have tried to embrace opportunities as they arise.

I had been tying for just over 9 months, mostly myself but I had a bunny to practise on and lots of willing victims to tie at munches. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise when I was asked to share some of my knowledge at a sadistic rope workshop. The workshop was to be held in the same place as my local rope munch, and I was to host. My assistant for the day would be the organiser, and we worked together in the run up to the event. I would work on ties I wanted to use, checking his tolerance as we went. I had four ideas to share, which from personal experience were most uncomfortable. Half possible self ties, half partnered.

He thought I should adapt one of my ties to use. His way would be “more painful, so more sadistic”. I was willing to let him try it on me, to lab it out. There was always the opportunity to learn something and if it worked as he thought it would? Well, then others may enjoy it too.

The lesson wasn’t exactly as I had imagined though…

My plan was to weight down the arms in a TK somehow. I can’t quite recall the details now as the whole thing was overshadowed by his adaptation.

His thoughts were that hands in prayer behind my back would be best. Then have something heavy tied round my hands to pull them round. I wasn’t certain that this would be safe, but agreed to trial it under very close attention. All went well, the tie felt secure and comfortable. Until he added weight. But it wasn’t a gradual increase in downward force. No. It was a full industrial sized bottle (5 litre) of fabric softener. I felt my shoulder crank round in a bad way, asked him to remove the weight straight away. “No, you’re alright. It’s meant to hurt”.

Had I been standing I could have sat down to remove the stress, but I was sat in a chair. I couldn’t get away from the injury-maker, unless he did something. What happened next was a heated, and mercifully brief, discussion on why he should remove the weight immediately! It most likely took just minutes, but felt like a lifetime. But he lifted the bottle and removed it, before then removing the rope from the rest of me. This proved to be the last time I was in his rope.

Looking back at the thunder storm 3.5 years prior… This fiercely assertive woman was a surprise!

On my trip with a difference, I had been shown a fabulous calf tie that had made me sweat profusely. I practised with my assistant, and he tolerated it well. The sweat noticeably beading on his brow, as it had on mine, but he never asked me to relax the bindings.

The boy had let me use this one on him too, and I tried to teach him. Our childfree weekends were mismatched which meant that he couldn’t come to the workshop. He would have been my first choice for assistant if he had been available. However, he was able to attend a local peer rope event with CC. I requested he practise the tie I had shown him, which he agreed to. This was a test of my teaching skills!

He was so good, and sent me lots of pictures of his work. Actually, I think CC sent them, but that is neither here nor there. He made a good attempt, which for a single, brief lesson I was very proud of him. I know CC was, and I hope he could see what a great job he had done. The picture at the top is the boys efforts, including his ghost rope. I was assured that it hurt quite nicely, and CC had enjoyed watching him sweat for her.

Winning all round!

As seems to be my way with big, terrifying events I barely recall any of the workshop. I know there were lots of interested faces, people watching and learning. I remember some of them even seemed to enjoy themselves. These curious onlookers worked well during practise time, and afterwards I was sent some of the images they had taken of their efforts. Oh, and, to my knowledge, nobody has been injured completing the ties I shared. I think that means the workshop was a success, but I have a complete fog around the events. Much like I do for my recent big task.

But the fog doesn’t detract from the completion of the challenges. Or my willingness to push myself. Before that thunder storm, when I put my neck on the block, it was impossible to see how things could be better. But now I was seeing this strong, confident woman grow. I think everyone was! And what a fantastic reminder of my growth. 3.5 years of development. Sometimes under the care of Sir, other times not. But always growing, ever pushing forward, striving for a better understanding of who exactly I am.


    1. Thank you, I’m so glad that my pride shows. I do often get reminded that I should be proud of myself, and if he thinks that then I can too. N xx

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