Tops Don’t Have to Play with You

March 2nd, 2015

Another two events coming up this weekend, and I just want to say this. Everyone knows that bottoms aren’t required to play with any top that asks, so why is it that some people get offended if the Top says no. Tops are Not required to play with you. Ever. It doesn’t matter if they are identifying as a service top at an event. Or if they are running an event. No one is required to play with you. And I say this as part of a group that runs events where we have sign up lists. Even then, a particular person on our crew still has the right to say no.

Now, at normal parties, this is generally not an issue. Sure some folks (top or bottom) complain that no one wants to play with them. But I see it more around suspension than any other type of play. Single subs come to a rope event expecting that someone Has to tie them up. Someone Has to suspend them. Simply because that’s what they want.

Let’s be serious here for a minute. Suspension is Dangerous! Serious injury and death Can occur. Minor injuries occur often – from rope burns to nerve pinching to muscle strains. And not just for the bottom. Lifting someone, no matter what their body type puts a strain on the lifter. Suspension takes a lot of trust, from both sides of the equation.

Suspension tops are not carnival rides, waiting around for just anyone who wants to play. They have to know the person they are tying, they have to trust the person they are tying, and they have to be mentally and physically prepared for each and every suspension they perform.

If you show up at an event without a partner, or without pre-negotiating, it is no one’s responsibility to give you what you want. It is on you to talk to people, to negotiate, and to accept yes or no as equally valid answers.

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High Point Flying

February 19th, 2015

He did it! He found the space. Got the permission. Organized the people. Hosted the event. We have a new high-point rigging space! Sixteen foot high I-Beams to swing full out on!

In total, we had 23 rigging points this past weekend. 22 of them were attached 16 feet above the floor. And 2 of them were full-out swing points with beam clamps, tow straps and all. It was Awesome!

He was teaching the drum tie, not my favorite, but I didn’t care. I was going to get to FLY. We had a very small class, having emphasized that people need to know what they’re doing. The beginner and beginner/intermediate classes had a lot of people brushing up on the basics. He taught, I helped, pointing things out, helping as best I could.

And then it was time to fly. We used a loop instead of carabiner, much more comfortable, but put me lower than usual, no problem though, plenty of height to use. And then I was swinging. Higher and higher.

Our spirits soared as he pushed me to the sky. Grinning and laughing and running. I was flying! There were exclamations from the watchers, but I barely heard them. He pushed me again, higher, jumping into the air. I arched my body, pushing myself even further. Oh, how I missed this.

He slowed me to a stop and helped me sit up, take the pressure off my head. Show the riggers the dangers of sitting. But the rig is so tight on me, it doesn’t move an inch. Lets me swing a little, and then back down.

Are you done? No, one more push, please.

And he does. One last flight through the air. Smiles so wide, glee filling us.

I reach out to him, and he brings me down. Back to earth, back to ground.

Thank you.

Until next time.

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Saturday: Tortures of Edo Japan

February 9th, 2015

It started in the room… no, it really started weeks ago. Him dropping hints, having secret conversations, building things in private. He had Plans for our weekend. Saturday, he said, the monster was coming to play.

Then it started in the room. He wanted consent, so he told us his plans. Showed us a picture. Pulled out the kneeling “mat” he had made (omg that looks horribly painful… but I’m curious), and the beating stick – bamboo wrapped in burlap and cotton rope. He hit us with it a few times, she tried kneeling on the mat (I don’t want to start the pain so early, so I don’t). He showed her the pole he wanted to suspend her from. What else did we want to try? I like the shrimp tie (ebizeme, she corrects), and I’d like to try the mat, and yes, please hit me with the stick. It’s a really great stick, so deep and thuddy. We finalized our plans and head downstairs.

We find a spot, he goes to settle himself as we stretch. He returns, shoos people out of our space. Grabs me first, spinning me around, I assume the position – arms crossed behind my back. She pipes in, asking him for me, to put the blanket down before I sit, he agrees. He wraps the ropes roughly, keeping me tight against him, as I sink quickly in to rope space. Breathing in the scent of him, and the brand new rope, as we go. A simple box tie, just one wrap at the top, and two kunukis. His hand going behind the center of the chest wraps feels like it is crushing my chest, wtf, but it is gone just as quickly as he finishes the tie.

He sets out the blanket now, forcing me down, and I cross my legs. He ties the ankles quickly, wrapping up and around the back of my neck, pulling me down tightly, hooking in so the cinching lines are tight up against the sides of my neck. I keep breathing, it’s okay, I tell myself, it’s not against my windpipe. Relax. And then he shoves me back, up onto my talibone, head and shoulders against the wall. WTF? Oh, this’ll be interesting. No relaxing here. And then the burlap sack goes over my head (ooh hood, I like hoods) and I close my eyes to settle in as he goes to start her scene. Occasionally rocking and scooting tiny bits, trying to get further up my back to relieve the pressure.

He comes to me now and then, smacking with a small piece of bamboo, causing squeals and more scooting. I think he has her kneeling now, as the hits are coming more frequently, and I can hear her reacting, too. Voices murmur nearby, commenting on our scene, both famliar and not. Cracks of the bamboo have me squealing and yipping. Thuds of the stick make me moan. Stabbing with the far end of the bamboo have me screaming until he pulls it away. Long, hard screams as he digs it into my flesh.

Wait, I can’t breathe, I start to panic, gasping, no I can, it’s just thick, calm down. I get my breath back just before he starts hitting me again. Screams and squeals and moans. When he stops, panic sets in again as I try to take deep breaths. My eyes are open now, just to prove to myself that it’s just burlap over my head. Hole-filled burlap, plenty of space. I calm the panic, deep breaths. It’s okay. More hits and screams and moans. He’s gone again, replaced by panic. Stop it, you’re fine, I tell myself, squirming at the bag, scooting down the wall. My arms are on the floor now, so much better. See, look you’re fine, I tell myself. Deep breaths. More hits, more stabbing pain, more squeals and screams. I don’t know how long this goes on (I find out later that after she was tied, it was 25 minutes), but the cycle keeps repeating.

Until the panic wins. Until it doesn’t go away, even when he’s hitting me. And I start sobbing. Hard wracking sobs take over my body. And he pulls the burlap away. Oh gods! Fresh air! Lungfuls and lungfuls of fresh air. He pulls me down to sitting again, and quickly unties my and chest. I lean against him a little bit, and then he goes to get her off the mat and untied. Returning to me to finish.

People are talking at me and I’m responding, but I don’t remember what was said. I am shaking, and hugging myself, they are bouncing with energy. Ready to go on to the next. We have to wait though, for a point to put her up on. So, we talk. He tells her how long she knelt. I tell him about the chest, and the burlap, someone comments on watching me panic. We move our stuff over to near the point as the scene comes down, ready to go again.

He has to focus on her, so he’s going to put me down, and then I can get up when I need to. Okay, I’d like to try the bamboo gag, I tell him. We start with a simple box tie again. Then the gag, I forget to grab it with my teeth and he pulls to hard. I made sounds of protest as it pulls my lips to breaking, and he lets up. Bite it, he says. And I do and he finishes tying it off. He puts me down on the mat, and I glance up at her, standing nearby. Damn, this sucks. She nods. He ties a blindfold around my eyes and reminds me to get up when I need to. Then heads over to start the suspension.

My upper lip and teeth are bone dry already. I start to drool – oh yeah, that’s the other reason I don’t like gags. Dammit, nothing to be done, though, drool is the least of my problems. Man, my shins hurt. Pointy triangular slats poking the bone every couple inches. Thank gods he smoothed them down from sharp points. I lean forward, she’s right, the ankles are the worst, putting all the pressure at the top of my shins, head sitting on the floor support of the suspension rig. I hear him comment about it, but I cannot reply. Damn gag.

Then the real problem starts. My hips are on fire. Apparently the tie wasn’t the best lead up to this scene. Damn. I sit back up. Nope, that’s not any better. I try to relax into the pain, but this isn’t good pain. This sucks. I curl back down again. Trying to move the weight off my hips. No, this isn’t going to work. Back up, what happens if I kneel up? I only start to when I realize this will put my kneecaps into the triangles, no efing way. Back down again.

I’m frustrated now. I know I can stay here longer, if my shins were the only problem. He comments on me drooling, you know, someone else still has to kneel on that. I don’t make a sound, the gag keeps me from even grinning. Nothing I can do about the drooling. Stupid hips, stupid stupid hips. I try shifting my arms, rubbing my hips, trying to find a spot to make them feel better. To no avail. I know I cannot stay here, I know he doesn’t want me to injure myself, or endure bad pain.

So, I rock back and off. Sitting on the floor, I’d so recently asked a blanket to be put down on. But I don’t think about this just yet. I am mad at my hips. I just sit and fume for a few minutes. A scene is over, I want to kneel, but no, still can’t do that. Stupid hips.

Now, I remember that I don’t want to be sitting on this floor, and stand. I put my back to the wall. Stand there in the box tie, blindfolded and still drooling. I hear him put a third person on the mat. I know the suspension is up by now. My throat is so damn dry. I want to see the suspension, I open my eyes and can see some light at the bottom of the blindfold. I lift my head, but the bamboo pulls tighter on my mouth. I relax, sink into the ropes around me.

No, I really want to see, so I lift my head just long enough to catch a glimpse of how she’s tied and then drop my head again. Ow, but nice tie. I sink back into my ropes. Trying to ignore the drool dripping down my dress. Once tilting my head back to try and swallow some to wet my increasingly dry throat. I do like this gag, breathing is just fine, there is no moment of panic. But damn, the dryness of winter.

He finishes the suspension, and comes to let me out. Pulling the gag and blindfold and boxtie. You’ve drooled all over my new rope. I just smirk at him. Not my fault. I tell him that my hips are stupid and the shrimp tie was not my best choice leading into the kneeling scene. Then he unties her and I help put the ropes away. We try out the bottom side of the mat, the sharp pointy side. Damn, it’s such a good thing he sanded down the points on the other side. The tortures of Edo Japan are a huge success.

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Friday 1: Catch and Release… and a Cattleprod

February 9th, 2015

It started in the hallway, waiting for the dungeon to open. Arm wrapped around each other, as another friend walked up. Look what I got, he says, showing off a brand new cattleprod. The man in my arms asks to borrow it, while I try to keep him from grabbing it. Too late. Nonononono. We head towards the rope room where he is getting ready for his first scene.

Hey, you’re going to let him hit you with a cattleprod before I get to? He asks me. Nononono, I reply, but ex-lover drags us over to him, and with some help, he gets it put together. Sit, he commands, and I do. Squirming and shrieking as he tests it out. Then hands it back to ex-lover and we head over towards the doors again, me still trying to get it out of his hands.

Doors open, and we head straight over to the mats. I strip down and he gets ready. Setting the prod aside for now. I don’t see him grab the first hank of rope, and give him a hug to start our scene. In seconds, he slams me to the mat, and I squirm, but he is too fast, pinning me down, sitting straddled across my back. His foot so near my mouth, but no, no biting, my brain tells me, as he wraps my left leg in a tight futo.

Then he’s up to grab the next hank. I scramble to my knees, seeing him tuck the hank into the back of his pants, Ah, that’s where it was. We circle for a bit, I note the gathering crowd, laughing at my awkwardness, and I just grin. Circling, until he comes in, spins me around while I try to shove with the little leverage I have. I comment that I should have bitten him when I had the chance. Oh really? He pins me down, yanking an arm behind me tying the wrist and wrapping the rope around my belly.

We’re up again, circling. The crowd is growing. More shoving and squirming as he takes me down a third time. I think I lose my remaining arm and leg this time, I’m no longer sure. I end up in quite a swirling mass of rope by the time he’s done. One or two more lines go round, I haven’t got much mobility left.

Or so I think, until he, finished tying, grabs the cattleprod once more. NONONONONO! I shout at him, he and the crowd just laugh, as I spin away, sliding across the mats much faster than I thought possible. Nonononono! I whimper as he chases me. Fuck! As he hits me with it. Again and again, I shove it away with arm and chin and body. Squirming and scooting all over the mat. That doesn’t look like eeling, he laughs. Nonono! Ow! I glare at him. If you want me to eel, you gotta stop that! My focus is totally on the prod and not one care given to the rope. He just laughs and zaps me again.

Fine, ugh, gotta figure out what I can do. Ropes are almost all tight, my arm can move quite a bit, but I can’t DO anything with that rope. FuckfuckNonono! He zaps me again and I scramble away, noting a DM has stopped by to check us out. I manage to slide a shoulder wrap up and off, it’s not tight, no trouble with my neck, but I try to distract him anyway.

Look, there’s a rope around my neck, it’s hot, right? Stop zapping me! He laughs some more. Sure it’s hot, keep going. I’m trying I’m trying! There is no try, only do. He shoots back at me. You’re Not Helping! As he zaps me again. This to much laughter from the gallery.

He sets the prod down to come bite me, and we growl at each other as his teeth sink in. But this is better focus for me, and I find another rope to work on. Eventually getting a wrist line to slide off my foot. He pounces and bites some more. And I scream, but I’ve gotten started now. And I kick the prod off the mat, to many cheers from the audience. Oh really?

He gets up and gets it back. I curse and shout and squirm away. Keep eeling he says, taunting me with the tips. I’m TRYING! I shout. Working frantically as he zaps me for kicking it away. I get a rope worked over my knee, and then another, and another, he didn’t lock down the futo. The knot it harder, as kicking my leg to squirm away from the prod only tightens it. Keep eeling and I won’t zap you. I glare up at him, whimpering, trying to focus. Good girl, good girl. As I finally get my leg free.

There is more biting now, and growling, and screaming as he goes for my foot, still bruised today as I write this. Whenever I slow down, he grabs the prod again, keep eeling. I’m trying! You’re not Helping! Are my shouts in return. The crowd grows and shrinks. The DM stops by a couple more times. We stop a couple times, to remove hair from my mouth, long enough to choke me. Once as I cough and gasp, he waits until I nod before zapping me back into action.

Good girl answers my small victories. A little more free and I start grabbing the prod. This only gets me zapped more. Let go, keep eeling, or I’ll keep zapping. Whimpering, as I try to ignore the prod reaching for sensitive areas, I writhe around the mat. Look, I’m eeling, I’m eeling. I glare at him. You’re not helping! He laughs and pokes, and bites, and prods some more. Good girl. You’re almost done.

I glare at the rope that is left, two wrist cuffs, not the horrible ones, but the ropes leading to them are all gnarled masses. Your stupid cuffs, I grumble at him, and he just laughs, holding me now. Biting my shoulders as I struggle with the last two knots. And done, there are some cheers and clapping.

I collapse back against him, a pile of rope in front of us. Good girl, he murmers one last time, holding me as we both relax. I have no idea how long it has taken, it doesn’t matter, I did not give up. Such a good scene. Our friend who bought the cattleprod gets snarky glares from me the whole rest of the weekend.

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WW

February 5th, 2015

::Bounces around excitedly:: Less than 24 hours away!

As usual, the better posts will come after the weekend. Stay tuned for the Adventures of the Perverted Imp…

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All the Rope (aka Munter, Munter, Munter, Half Moon!)

January 30th, 2015

Had a great weekend at Snowbound last weekend. Missed the first night due to working the club, but made it early the next morning (too early, way too early). We went to really good classes all day. Starting with lashing people to bamboo (where we won some bamboo), getting back into box tie rhythm while learning some new variations, discussing partial suspensions and what you can do with them, and then a really awesome hip harness, and a really mean waist cinching sadistic tie.  Plenty of nuggets to be had, and new ties to experiment with, which we did later that evening at the play party. Sunday’s unconference brought more ties to learn, talk about, and practice, and So many munters, you wouldn’t believe. And while we stayed longer than anticipated, the discussions were still going strong when we headed home mid-afternoon.

He and I have decided to make Monday our date nights, complete with rope lab time. And we have plenty of new things to work on, not to mention the chest-loading harness that I started researching for him when the idea was first proposed. I’m not a huge fan of suspending in TKs. He spoiled me with several years of simple chest wraps for suspension, that putting that kind of pressure on my (already poorly circulating) arms, is just terribly uncomfortable. And that’s not what I learned suspension is. So many years of comfortable flights. But there are always new things to learn, new experiences to be had, and so we go forward. Looking for ways to make it work, for us both.

I often communicate to him, while trying new things, about tingly feelings and loss of circulation as follows: “So, X is tingling, but I’m alright with it.” I know how my body reacts to restriction, and being a masochist, I’m alright with a certain level of discomfort when doing things I like. But he always taught me that complete verbal communication is vital to suspension. So, I let him know, and we keep going, until it gets past a point where I’m alright with it, or a point when we feel it’s been tingly too long, or the pain starts to go in a not good way. With suspension, this can be a tricky line, especially with TKs. But we’ve also learned when just a finger slid under the line, or a movement of half an inch is all that is needed to relieve the pressure.

As was repeated often last weekend – suspension is not safe. We only can work to mitigate the risks as much as we can. Going forward, there is a new space we are working with. It has amazing potential. And for us, RACK, isn’t just about knowing there are risks, but making sure everyone is educated to what all the risks Are. Learning and teaching is a continuous process, each new tie, each new space, each new piece of gear, or rope, gives us something new to learn. And to share with others.

Wow, I’m rambling all over the place. 🙂 Let’s just end with – my life is amazing, rope is wonderful, and I am so incredibly grateful to everyone who is with me on this journey.

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All of the Things

January 23rd, 2015

Researched Topologist’s Chest Loading Takate Kote this week. Looks interesting. Rolled my eyes at detractors who like the view from their high horses just a little too much, but stayed out of the arguments myself. Tried out a new dynamic hip harness on Wednesday. It does not work well for my body, or my tastes, not sure if it is one or both. But I have the bruises and missing skin to prove it.  Heading to Snowbound this weekend, so… More Rope! But first we have the Burlesque show with crew tomorrow night. And soon, Winter Wickedness!

Beginning to formulate ideas for scenes and service. Feel like I should come up with more ideas on the latter, but really have only come up with boots, fetch, and sadistic assistant. I think I also volunteered to take notes in classes, but this might be part of the last. Did come up with some scene ideas today. They could be used this weekend or then, or whenever, but at least I got out of med-head long enough to toss some ideas out into the air. Really not interested in this cold lasting much longer, but I don’t think it’s going to give me any choice in the matter. Haven’t had con-crud in a while, guess it was my turn (though, from the sounds of it, it was everyone’s turn this week).

Okay, I really should sleep now, but I wanted to put something out here before the weekend.

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Merry Christmas!

December 25th, 2014

By next post, the year will be over. I hope you had a good one. In my time-keeping, I dubbed this the Year of Change. People moving, getting new jobs, people passing, babies born, houses bought, classes taken. There have been some Serious Discussions, and quite a lot of flirting, and some forward progress made. I have played far too much World of Warcraft, but also read quite a lot more books this year than last, even discovering a good handful of new authors. I’ve just started Kushiel’s Dart, and it looks intriguing so far.

I even made him proud of me at the recent self-suspension class – hardly anyone there had ever seen me tie a rope before, and a couple asked him if I was a rigger, when just as the hands-on part began, I was the first one ready to put myself up. He and I had been practicing a particular knot lately, so I was using that for my ties. The suspension being taught was just three single column ties, and each separately up to the ring. Not terribly comfortable, depending on where you put the torso tie, but that’s why the teacher suggested a corset. Interesting possibilities and a whole lot of flexibility with that tie, just have to make it work for your own body.

Stray thoughts floating around my head tonight – monsters, nuzzles, and busy times ahead.

We talked a bit about his monster this week, how long it had been since I’ve seen it, what it looked like, that I miss it, but it’s safer this way. I don’t always want to be safe, though, it’s a hard line to walk.  And an odd Christmas Eve discussion. Still processing.

Nuzzles are nice. I sent out bonfire envy and got back nuzzles in return, I’m such a sucker for written words, made me happy murmur even without the actual nuzzles.

We had Fet Night last week, we’ve got Porters Friday, Fet night next week, and then DeCon in a couple more weeks. Also hoping to start sorting out visits to the north soon.

2015 is going to be a great year of moving forward and upward. 🙂

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Primal Futo

December 4th, 2014

This week’s class was on primal play. I’ve only done a small amount of this, but it is interesting to me. The presenter, the instigator, was entertaining as always. People talked about walking barefoot in the woods, about losing control, about the dangers of the beast within us. A very enjoyable class overall.

After, there were so many people in the room. He and I just stood their, practicing one knot over and over in the center of the room. But then there was futo confusion, so we settled down for a teaching/practicing moment. Figuring on evening out the pain, I gave him the opposite leg from last week. The other bottom being tied was just as confused as me by the pain. Yes, I said, it hurts on the inside, but it’ll hurt on the outside once you go up, don’t worry. I lay and relaxed into the rope and he tossed my leg back and forth. Then he sent me crawling for the lift gear. I brought it back to the point, and we rigged up.

Up in the air, fuck the pain, and why the hell does my jaw hurt? Ugh! Tense neck and shoulders, focus, cradle my head. You okay? Yeah, just, ugh, hate upside down. But the tie is working well, I entwine my free leg and try to relax. He grabs my hair and yanks my head back. Better? NO! Lets it drop, he pulls my shirt down over my face, and I settle into the darkness and pain. Fearful that he’s getting the dragontail, but settling deep.

Thud! Fuck! What the hell. A few more hard strikes, and I flail about freeing my vision to see he has the rhino cock. Fuck. My hip hurts without support, so he arches me back and ties my wrist to my ankle to give it some tension. Now my wrist And my hip hurt, but it’s better, as I twist my leg, settling my foot against my ass.

Spinning slightly as he takes aim for more strikes. I shove my free arm into my mouth to muffle the screams. And then I lose it, climbing right up and grabbing the ropes above me, growling and glaring out at him like a trapped cat while he laughs. He strikes again, and I’m kicking out and getting more tangled in the ropes. Fighting, but helpless.

He keeps hitting and I keep lashing out and arching and flailing and kicking. The subby part of my brain is confused by my fight response, but for the rest of me it feels right this night. More strikes and I curse and growl and glare, biting my arm to keep the noise low. As he circles and strikes. Settling into the pain, one hand on the ground for balance, as I try to keep my circle ahead of his.

Finally my body is angry, my hip is screaming louder than me and my back is pissed off from the torquing. I slump down, calling out for him. I’m done, back pain is bad. And he unties the lift line and slides me down. Down and grinning and happy. He unties quickly, and I flatten out, wincing. My foot got more numb this time, though the ankle was tied more loosely. So that’s how we turn me primal, string me up in a futo and beat me. He laughs and shares with the room. He drops the rope onto my chest and heads off to the other suspension in progress.

I cover my face with it for a moment and then sit up, bury my face in the hemp again, breathing deeply. I hear comments about it, and him explaining the true hemp smell of his rope. I don’t care, it’s mine right now, this moment.

Aware again, I start to sort out the strands, but I can’t my hands are still shaking. I stop and  dig them into the pile in my lap. Clench tightly to keep from shaking, I close my eyes and breathe. I can feel the tears at the edges, but he is busy and the room is full of strangers, so I hold on, breathe, feel the rope, enjoy the flow of energy returning to ground.

Finally back to calm, I sort the strands, and tie them up. Beautiful ligature marks on my legs, bruises forming on my ass and hips. I go to him and snuggle in against his chest. Thank you. Such a good scene.

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My First Futo

November 29th, 2014

I should be working on my term project, but the upstairs neighbors are blasting music again. Ruins my concentration. I haven’t quite figured out if it is band practice, or just a really loud stereo. It’s only 6pm on a Saturday, so not a huge deal, just not helpful for homework. So, writing instead.

He came home from his visit up north with some new rope skills to practice. So, we had a ropetastic Wednesday night. First he showed the other riggers the new Y-hanger he had learned, and they worked on it for a bit. Then he moved on to the new Futomomo.

I’ve never actually hung in a Futo before, though he tied one on me a couple weeks ago, the better to beat me, when I could not get away. I knew my leg would bend well enough for it, but I forgot to take into account the bruises from the last few weeks when I decided on which leg to offer.

He tied my ankle, and then started the wraps up. No problem, then he started feeding through the center and locking down each wrap. Pain. That’s odd, pain on the inside of the futo, not the outside like I expected. Ow! Is it too tight? I don’t even know what that means for this tie. No, I don’t think so, but Ow. I am so very confused by the strangely located pain while he finishes the tie. Some on the lowest wrap, but mostly inside. He keeps asking if it is too tight. Rope is hardly ever too tight for me, and he’s going to hang me by it, so I keep saying no. The I remember the bruises, must be hitting those. Okay, makes sense now.

He ties the lift rope and pulls. OW!!! Fucking hell! Okay, yeah, this is an excruciating tie. Ow, Ow, Ow! You okay? Yeah. It’s actually really comfortable on the rest of my body, just hurts like hell. He ties me off and grabs the dragontail. Of course he does. Gotta not scream, I cover my mouth, swearing and spinning and flailing. Hook my free leg up in the lift rope. Snap, breathe, snap, yelp. Free leg is awkward, trying to keep away from the tail. Fuck my tied leg hurts. Okay, I need down.

He lowers me, lets me breathe for a few moments, then back up, but only partial. My shoulders are still on the ground, but I can’t quite get my free leg down. Twisting, and swearing as he snaps the tail some more. Cover the screams, don’t bother the neighbors.

Tied foot is a little numb, but still moving and feeling. Okay, free leg is really getting annoyed now. Hurting my hip trying to figure out how to support it. He lets me down.

Fun? Yes. Comfortable? Yes, but it fucking hurts. Grins and kisses and he unties my leg. Oh, that’s what blood flow feels like. Try to straighten my leg. Nope, not yet. Yep, the rope was on All the Bruises. Wee! He drops all the rope in my lap. Happy space. Mmmm hemp. Excellent night.

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