‘I had never been tied or chained by anyone in my life’.
That’s what I said in the first part of this article. Thinking about it, that’s not, strictly speaking, true.
I used to be a Boy Scout…and everyone knows what happens there. A ‘rite of passage’ at scout camp was being staked out…spreadeagled on the ground like an X with wrists and ankles tied to large wooden tent pegs which had been hammered into the ground. I had been staked out.
I also used to play tie up games with my best mate through our mid to late teenage years. I used to enjoy being tied up but I also used to enjoy tying him up. See attached photo…identity of my mate obscured for obvious reasons…
But I had never been in a situation where I had put myself in the hands of someone who I had never met in my life and allowed him to cuff me hand and foot and chain me to a wall…and as I lay on my belly in my shiny black football kit, hooded and ballgagged, with my captor pulling my wrists and ankles up into a hogtie position, I was seriously wondering if I’d made a huge mistake.
But, of course, I hadn’t. There should never have been any doubt in my mind. There was, because this was my first time in this situation, but there shouldn’t have been.
My captor released me. And then he hugged me…gently, but firmly. And I nearly cried. I’m not sure why. It may have been the relief of being released. It may have been that the realisation that my trust had not been betrayed. It may have been because, generally, I’m not a huggy person and I’m not quite sure how to cope. Nevertheless, I nearly cried. But I didn’t.
I’ve made that whole situation sound like a bit of an ordeal. Perhaps it was. However, in terms of bondage and captivity…and discomfort…and ultimately, pain…a far greater ordeal was now to follow.