Laurie's Splice [M/F]

[StringTheorist]

“Hi Roger. What are you doing with all that rope?” Laurie was a 50ish second cousin by marriage to Kyle, Roger’s son. She was dressed for the hot day in white shorts, T-shirt and sandals.

“Hi Laurie, 'Splicing.'”

“Splicing? Not as in ‘splicing the main brace’?”

“Not quite. Actually your phrase derived from rope splicing on sailing ships.

"I found several hanks of rope here in the basement. A long piece of rope had been cut up for some purpose, but the ends of the ropes were not protected against unravelling. I’m putting an end splice on some of the ropes for something to do. Also called a back splice. Besides it is cool down here.”

“Yes. May I watch? Will you tell me the steps?” She was feeling the ropes at Roger’s side.

“Certainly. Any word from the others?”

The others were Roger’s son Kyle, his wife Maureen, his mother-in-law Jamie, and an odd-man-out named Sam. Jamie had noticed a bite on Sam’s neck that looked suspiciously like a tick bite. She was a retired PSW who never hung up a sense of responsibility for things health-wise. They had left going to find a local doctor in the resort town on the shore of a large lake, been redirected to a larger community, and now doing a high-speed run to a major health centre.

“Just the same. On the way. No traffic problems save for some road construction.”

Roger finished the end he was working on and rolled the end under his palm on top of a box near by. He handed it to Laurie.

“Neat. That end won’t unravel.”

“No, it won't. But I don’t know what the owners used the rope for. If they wanted to pass the rope through a small hole, it might not fit. But I don’t think the ropes have been used for several years.

“The rope is sisal, made from some plant material. When new it tends to be somewhat rough, but I sense the rope has been used enough to wear down the surface roughness. You can see how the end-splice exposes some of the inner portions of the twisted strands, they feel a different roughness. But overall the rope is in good condition. I guesstimate about 10 years old. Used but not abused.”

“You do assessments like I do assessments of people I encounter. But on inanimate items,” Laurie, a nurse, observed. Laurie had been left behind to keep an eye on Roger and make lunch if needed. She was handling the rope as she spoke.

“I could ‘whip’ the end, wind a thin string around the rope almost at the end, but I haven’t found any suitable cord.”

“Wow.”

Roger picked up another rope from the pile, saying he would do this one next. “Do you think there is any coffee left?”

“I can brew a fresh pot.”

“I’m happy with cold coffee, as long as it not full of grounds. It will do me good to stretch and walk around to the kitchen. Do you have any plans for yourself?”

“I would enjoy just watching you and talking. I don’t have much to do until lunch time if they’re not back.”

So they left the ‘basement’ and headed to the kitchen, making use of the facilities. Laurie started another pot.

The ‘basement’ needs explaining. The vacation rental building was nestled up to a steep slope, with the front face of the main floor veranda well over head height. There was set of white cross slat double doors opening out to the parking area, and the headroom decreased as you moved further back. Some posts supported the beams under the floor of the main part of the building. The surface of the ground was mostly gravel. While the building faced south, trees protected the basement from heavy sun and visibility from the road.

Laurie carried some snacks back down and Roger carried the more precious 2 cups of coffee.

He sat back in the chair, and Laurie pulled another chair with arms close to watch.

Roger unravelled the three strands of the rope, then bent one strand down the side of the rope. The second strand bent over the first strand. The third and last bent over the second and its end was tucked under the first. Roger pulled the strands, one after another, slowly tightening each until he had a nice tight crown.

Laurie reached over and felt the knot. She pulled the far end over her knees.

Next Roger untwisted the rope a little below the crown, creating a gap between the strands and he passed one of the strands from the crown knot through the gap. He repeated this step with the other strands in order, then tugged the ends tight. After another couple of rounds, he used a sharp knife to cut out about one third of the material off the strand before tucking it under. After doing the other two strands, he pulled them tight. He cut another portion off each of the strands and repeated the next cycle.

Roger then vigorously rolled the end splice between two boards on the ground, using his sneaker to apply pressure to the top board. Lastly he trimmed off the tails of the strands sticking out.

Laurie picked up the rope and rolled the end splice on her thigh. “I like the feel of the rope on my skin. Rough but not irritating.” She pulled the whole rope onto her lap, giving the unspliced rope end to Roger. She watched closely as he repeated the end splice.

“Do you want to try?”

“I have something else I want – would you mind tying my hands together with this rope while you do the next one?”

Roger paused; he wouldn’t mind at all.

“Please? I find the feel of the rope somewhat erotic.”

So Roger tied her hands crossed, snuggly but not tight. Instead of pushing the free end of the rope through strands of the knot, he tucked a loop through, placing the free end in her hands. “You can pull on this to free yourself,” he added.

So she watched another end splice. Roger was getting quicker at the process.

“Would you please untie me?”

Roger complied.

Laurie arose from the chair and headed out the door, saying “I’ll be back in a moment.”

Roger stood up and stretched, wondering what she might want next.

Laurie returned in an immodest string bikini and long socks, carrying a refill of coffee for Roger, some more socks and a couple of bandannas. She turned the chair slightly, sat and announced, “This lady needs to be secured in this chair with her hands behind her back.”

So Roger complied. The extra socks were for her wrists to reduce rope burns. Her ankles were affixed to the legs of the chair. Laurie wanted more – a rope around her waist and the chair back, then ropes around her torso above and below. She directed one bandanna be used as a blind-fold, and the other as a gag.

So Roger started on another rope end, but didn’t do quite as good a job as his mind was elsewhere. He described his progress. When he was finished – she knew by the sounds of the splice being rolled between the planks – she grunted 4 times – she wanted to talk.

“Come stand behind me.”

“Put your arms over my shoulders, and stretch down till you can reach my breasts. They have need of a little hand work – shall we call it breast-splicing?

Roger felt her nipples swelling further as he massaged her mounds. Laurie’s breathing deepened.
“Reach in and touch my nipples,” she requested in a low voice. Roger tucked his fingers under the top of her bikini bra and touched the bare nipples.

“Harder,” she requested.

He squeezed, and she exploded into orgasm.

“Move up to the back of the chair,” Laurie requested. Where upon she squirmed her hands into his crotch. She noted the pad he wore, presuming that it was as a result of treatment for his prostate cancer. Too bad.

MTC

ST

[GreyLord]

Well, @StringTheorist, that was fun. I need a relative like that.