Rope, Beatings, and Service

February 10th, 2017

I had a really nice time at WW last weekend. I got to hang out with many members of my chosen family, and one even offered me a bed, so I didn’t have to drive home in the middle of the nights. It was fun to hang out and snuggle and go to classes together.  I even got to do some rope with him when we went to afternoon classes, including one very intense, randomly generated groundwork tie.

I had two scenes over the weekend, one each night. One a reprise of a last year’s scene with an old friend. This time with more pressure points than body drumming, but a good mix of both. He pulled much writhing and many squeals of pleasureful pain out of me with pushing his nails into points on my calves and thighs.

The other, with him, our usual, extremely enjoyable flogging, beating, whipping mixture. Pounding my back to the beat of the music. Spinning me round for whip kisses while he looks into my eyes. And a good few hard shots with a leather cock to lay some nice defined bruising on my thighs. I even asked for a light dragon tail tip cool down to settle me back to earth, since there wasn’t enough room for the full whip. Then we went to the rope room to sit and chill while I rested my head on his thigh and he occasionally stroked my hair. We saw many beautiful rope scenes while we relaxed together.

There was also service throughout the weekend. Fetching drinks and chocolate, monitoring his space when he flogged others, helping with tools and clean-up, watching his bags when needed. I also did a little bootblacking for the friend who scened with me. He had shiny boots, so I actually got to use polish on real leather boots that weren’t my own.

One of the classes I went to in the morning, before he arrived, was on Service, given by Mollena. It was a really fun, engaging, and educational class. She spoke not only about giving service gracefully, but receiving it gracefully, as well. She talked about how service is part of a power Exchange – heavy emphasis on the exchange. If you, as a service giver, are not getting anything from the one receiving service, then it is not an Exchange. There are many ways to create this exchange, and it’s important to figure out what you need, not just what you can give.

Sometimes what you are getting is the attention of the person you are serving. She gave a great in-class example. She asked someone in the back for a glass of water, and while they got it, she went on talking. When the woman handed her the water. She then looked right at her and asked for another, and then paid full attention to the woman the entire time she went and came back with the glass of water. Holding her with her eyes when the woman gave her the water and as she thanked her for it. The entire class felt the difference.

She also talked about being your True Self. How some of her early service relationships/trainers had her providing service that she was unfit for or uninterested in providing. She told some really horrible stories about the results of that service. She advocates for deciding for yourself what service you have to offer, and finding the person who wishes to receive that service. Being a slave, she told us, isn’t about becoming what someone else wants you to be, but about being yourself and connecting with those whose needs match what you can offer them.

Let’s not forget the Prime Directive either, which I have talked about here in other words: “It is the primary responsibility of the slave to protect the master’s property at all times, up to and including protecting the property from their master.” This is not only about speaking up for yourself, and making sure that you are being taken care of, but it is also about self care. That is one thing I struggle with every day.

It was an excellent class, and I still have more processing to do on it.

All in all, it was a very good weekend.

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Struggle

September 3rd, 2016

Do you ever have those days, when you just want to fight? But you’re not a fighter, so it’s more like you want to struggle, need to struggle. As a rope bottom, and masochist, to me, this means I want to Eel. And not just eel. Not just, tie me up, and let me get out. But tie me up tight, painful, torture me while I wriggle and writhe. Maybe I can’t even get out at all, but it’s the fight I want, the struggle.

He told ex-Lover the other day, that I was due some nipple clamps and a straitjacket. It’s been a Long time. He has used the straitjacket with me twice that I can remember – once for a nice zone out, and once to be eyes for an artificially blinded engineer. Once inside, one cannot really fight a straitjacket, but I’ve written at least once about fighting ex-Lover putting it on.

I am full of stress at things, and working on letting it go. Pain helps – we’ve had some fun pain lately, especially with whip practices this month. He was even practicing a new long stroke this past week – more like what you see in movies of someone at a post – though without the blood, of course. But as things build up, I’m feeling the need for a struggle. Now, to figure out where and how.

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Sometimes It’s Just A Leg

August 25th, 2016

Listening to class on Wednesday. He’s practicing a single column tie, on my wrist. Pulling hard to make sure it doesn’t collapse, bouncing my arm like a puppet. A half dozen times. Then he grabs an ankle and does the same thing.

Only this time, he starts tickling my foot. I cover my mouth and squirm, but his tie is firm, and he’s grinning happily, tickling it just lightly to watch me react. Then he decides to go for more.

He starts tying my foot at a hard 90 degree angle, then runs the rope up over the top of my calf muscle, taking wraps Tightly down my leg back to my ankle. Tighter with every wrap. It reminds me of the Torture with Twine class, where I tied my own leg like this, but with much thinner stuff. I tighten my hand over my mouth, trying to keep my squeals of pain in, but then managed to switch over to processing with breath – gasping and breathing heavily as he squeezes the muscle tighter.

Then he starts tickling again. I clap my hand over my mouth as my brain tries to process the two opposing sensations at once without screaming. My eyes are wide as I stare up at him, and his eyes and mouth are full of sadistic amusement. And he tickles and tickles, and then squeezes the torture calf, and I have to muffle screams again. Light touches driving me mad, my hands are flapping helplessly, but I can’t fight, I can’t move my leg. He tries to straighten it a few times, pulling gasps and squelched groans out of me. It just can’t move. I try to move my toes, they feel so odd forced up like that, assuring there’s no problem, just strangeness.

Eventually, he unties that leg, and we both admire the markings the rope has left. Then he grabs the other and starts up again. Tight and tickles, pain and weirdness. Gasps and flappy hands. So much fun with one little rope. Together.

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Trauma and All the Rope

November 12th, 2015

Trauma went well. Three nights of costumes, shows, rope, and kink. We did over three hundred scenes in our balcony. Serving something like 500 people. It was a great time. We had a lot of fun, and some really boisterous dinners after each night. It was great to have new crew join us and old crew reappear. Fortunately, we have another year before we have to do it again.

Our usual weekday meeting is off this month, but we have all the rope. Two rope meetings so far, and one more to go. Hoping to catch all the new folks that met the rope crew at Trauma. We had some really good attendance at the first two, hoping it holds for the next.

Two more parties left this year. Some holiday fun yet to have. Looking forward to relaxing a bit through the end of the year. And then we start all over again. 🙂

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We Did the Thing!

August 27th, 2015

This past weekend was a really good one. We had our usual monthly Friday party, two rope intensives on Saturday, a Saturday party, and our monthly rope gathering on Sunday. It was so much fun, and educational, and we did the thing!   Both parties went really well, more attendees the first night, but that was to be expected. We had whip classes and bottoming classes and a superb performance to watch from our wonderful presenters.

The intensive that I attended on Saturday was really good and fun. We started out with a running man suspension, which I’d never done before, to learn a new way to attach to the point. The attachment was designed with vertical suspension in mind, and had three points on the chest harness, to keep the bottom from tipping over in one direction or the other. It worked really well. Then we worked on a particular style of 3-rope TK for the rest of the morning. The presenter joked that he tricked us all into yet another TK class, but this one focus a lot on the third rope, and the WHY’s more than the how.

After lunch we split up, the tops working on up-lines, and the bottoms having kind of a round-table on bottoming. Our presenter had some topics she wanted to discuss, and so we bounced around on them. She gave us some good stretches for rope, and a strengthening exercise for shoulders. We talked about choosing good rope tops, and safety, and Why we all choose Rope. It was a really good discussion.

Lastly, we all came back together to try a transitional suspension. One that began with the TK we’d been working on all morning, rigged into a side suspension. Next, each ankle was rigged in a single column tie, first going out to the side, and then up behind the bottom nearly all the way to the ring. This led to the next position, which was hanging by the ankles, by dropping the chest line completely. The finally position was re-rigging the chest from behind and bringing the bottom up into a face-down suspension. Getting down was a simple matter of dropping the ankles back to the floor. Only about half the class managed it after having spent the entire day working hard. We didn’t even fully get to the second position.

Sunday, however, was a new day. A decent amount of rest was had after the Saturday party, and we were ready to try again:

We worked on the TK first, getting it into place, the third rope on, and the bottom wraps not-too-tight. The previous day this had been our biggest difficulty, but we got it down better on Sunday. Once sorted, he rigged me up to the ring, left side down.

Then came the ankles. Single column ties, loose, but not too loose. I have small heels, and my left kept slipping out the day before. Right leg up straight out to the side and a little up. Left leg up behind it. Not so bad, a little rough without a waist line.

But now it is time to go the rest of the way up. Pulling my ankles up behind me to the ring seems like a simple thing, but my body doesn’t normally bend that way. Right away it becomes uncomfortable. Soon, it becomes painful. My lower back is confused as fuck – what the hell do you think you’re doing, you crazy rope bunny, we are not made of Gumby stuff. Oh god, I can’t breathe, what the hell? Shut up brain, we can breathe, see, we are moaning in pain, that’s totally breathing. He checks in. Yeah, I’m surviving, tie the ankles quickly please. I’m sweating and shaking and moaning, but he gets them tied off.

He checks in again, have you ever hung by your ankles? No. He calls in a nearby rigger to be a spotter in case I red out. I just want this awful pressure off my chest and back. He lowers my chest.

Oh dear gods, sweet sweet air. I’m am hanging upside down by my ankles. but my chest is free. Well, okay, I’m still in a TK, but the pressure is gone and I can breathe. My left hand is even getting feeling back again. So Much Better, I gasp. I don’t even care the my head is resting on the ground, I can breathe again. I am sure that I’m spacing out as they chuckle at me.

Ready to go back up? I take a few more breaths, and curl my head, going from resting on the back of it, to resting on my forehead, so he can pull me straight up again. He grabs the lift line and drops to the ground, zipping me up into the air. He tells the spotter we’re alright now, but I ask him to stay, upside down was easy, upright is the hard part.

You okay? Yeah, but my lower back thinks I’m crazy, I don’t bend into a V quite as well as younger folk.

Careful breathing as he lifts me fully up and ties me off. Oh dear gods the pain and pressure are back. Not Nearly as bad as the sideways twist, but my body really thinks I’ve gone insane. Almost there, I tell it, just a little longer.

He unties the line of one foot, our friendly spotter offers to do the other one, so both come down at the same time. Nah, he says, I want to fuck with her. We all laugh, and I groan a bit, as he lets one leg down slowly. I let out a soft curse as he gets that one all the way down and it can’t quite touch the ground. But he is quick with the second and I’m back on my feet in no time. Gasping for breath, grinning from ear to ear.

We did it! We did the thing! Thank you! So happy to have completed the challenge we set for ourselves. We’re both in a better mood, and I am bouncy the rest of the afternoon.

Such a good way to wrap up a great weekend.

 

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So Close, I Can Taste It

August 13th, 2015

Finished my last final of my last Grad School class the other day. All I have left is my two internships this fall. So excited! And then I’ll be done, I’ll have a Masters of Library and Information Science, and hopefully, I’ll have a new job. Super excited about all this.

Also hopeful that I can get back to posting regularly again. Look, it’s Thursday and I’m posting!

I’ve added a new plugin to the site, as the old GVoice stopped working. Now, at the bottom of posts, you will see a button that you can press to have the post read aloud by the computer. If you really want to. It’s kinda amusing for a little bit. Note: this is not my voice, it’s just a fun tool, so it’ll probably get some words wrong.

As usual, everything happens at once, and life is insanely full of All the Things. Rope Intensive next weekend, full of parties and rope and things. And just a few weeks later, we’re already at COPE again. I haven’t even had time to think about it, let alone plan anything. I should really look and see what the theme reveal was.

Weeee!!!

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The Best Scene I Couldn’t Ask For

March 8th, 2015

The night started out fairly normal. I’d asked to spend time bootblacking, and he’d even brought an extra pair of boots. He was wearing his new knee-high boots, still fresh and mostly clean. I I just did a basic saddle-soap clean. Rubbing his feet and calves with brush and fingers and micro-fiber. A massage to get him relaxed and shiny for the night. He had things to do, so he left me with his work boots. These got the full laces-out, saddle-soap, and Black Gold treatment. He took them out to the truck when I was done, they were not needed tonight. I was spending the night in service to him, but when he got back, we would have a scene first.

“Pick out a piece of furniture for me to beat you with this.” He handed me the burlap/bamboo stick of awesome.

I walked about a bit, there were a couple open benches and crosses. I hovered near the larger of the two benches, with an eye on a cross, not sure of his intentions. When he returned, I motioned to the bench and pointed to the cross.

“Bench.”

So, I knelt on the bench, legs only having just recovered from the bootblacking, but this was kneeling up instead of down, so I’d be fine. I lay forward and he pulled out a piece of rope. Happy surprise. I haven’t been tied down to a bench in years. Left wrist first, pulled it down to a good place for me to grip and tied in through one of the holes, then over to the right wrist, down to another hole. Then he pulled out the short bit of bamboo.

Damn, bamboo gag, alright, I tell myself, don’t forget to bite down while he’s tying. In it goes and I grab it hard with my teeth, he ties it in good and tight, and then pulls the rope down my back. What the? Interesting. I keep my head down, not wanting to strain my neck and throat by having my head tied back. He takes it down to my waist, knots it and then splits the ropes, effectively tying my waist down to the bench. Nice.

I’m drooling already. Ugh! Stupid gag drooling. Ah well, nothing to be done about it. And it makes him happy to take that control from me. Time for the beaty stick.

Gods that burlap wrapped bamboo feels awesome. He beats my ass a few times, lands a few blows on my back. As long as I remember to breathe out when he hits my back, it’s all good. Otherwise it knocks it out of me anyway. I arch my ass up, keeping tailbone clear as he swings. Moaning happily around my gag.

Then he puts it down for a moment, and starts in with his bare hand. And I’m soaring, heart and body. I love spanking, I’ve been wanting a spanking. On a spanking bench even. But it is one of those things, one of those very sexual things for me, that I am still very embarrassed to ask for. Oh, but he knows me so well.

Some more beating stick, some more spanking, his hand sneaks up and slides under me, grabbing a nipple and making me scream. I’m writhing and moaning and soaring, and drooling. So much drooling. He comes round in front of me and just grins. More beatings and spankings. He grabs me by the hair, lifting my head back, using his free hand to wipe up my drool and smear it all over my face. Ugh, so messy. And then he’s beating my ass again. Gods I love him.

Spanking and beating, and nipple pinching. I’m moaning and screaming and writhing and drooling and dripping.

He pulls out a paddle, pulling louder screams and harder writhing. He wipes my drool all over my face again and again. There is more bare-handed spanking and more beaty stick. One hand reaches under me and lifts me up by the throat. I don’t even know what he’s hitting me with at this point, as I soar higher and higher.

The devil pop is out. He is in front of me, grinning that huge grin.

“Time for your penance. What do you think? Twenty?”

My eyes grow wide and all I can manage is whimpering. I owe him, for not being prepared, for not having a skirt the night before. Fuck. Yes. Anything, for all he has given me. I twist my hands around so I am now grabbing the rope instead of the bench. Digging the fibers into my hands, anchoring. But I cannot speak, I nod.

“Twenty?” I nod again. “You can’t say no to this grin can you?” I shake my head. “You better hold on. Ten for each cheek.” I whimper, laying my head down in my puddle of drool, clinging to the rope. “Ten on the flat side and ten on the rounded.” He goes back behind me.

The devil pop lands and I am screaming. He alternates cheeks and I alternate kicking my legs straight out. The first ten go fairly quickly. Five on each cheek, I barely have time for individual screams. The creator of the pop is called by my screams and they laugh above me.

The next ten are slower. Each hit pulling a scream all its own. Writhing and arching, until I can calm and reset myself. He waits for each one. Letting me scream it out.

Twenty strikes complete. I am pushing the gag forward with my tongue so I can swallow and get a breath. I don’t even remember if he spanked me any more after that.

Then he was untying the gag and I almost forgot to bite down. Put my jaw back in place as he untied my wrists.

“You’re such a mess.” We’re both grinning at each other. “Dripping wet at both ends. You good?”

“Very good, thank you!” I am flying high all night long, as I kneel or stand ready with the beaty stick, helping with or just observing his other scenes. So very grateful for all we have together.

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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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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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