I’ve always been good with intricate knots. A skill I perfected getting my Scout’s badge. My fingers would get raw with the hours of practice. But, like a good boy scout, I never gave up and did perfect any number of knots.
Figure of eight, clover hitch, highwayman’s hitch and so on. I never thought they would ever come into use, but here I am on a Saturday night tying knot after knot. It’s amazing how it all comes back to you, when you really need it.
A timber hitch on the spreader bar between her ankles and a bowline on her wrists. I impress myself by how neat they all look. You can never find a ball gag when you want one, but a figure of eight works perfectly. Oh dear, there is red lipstick all over the rope; hope it washes out. Her eyes look expectant, hungry, wanton. She wants…
View original post 421 more words