06 - Knot Practise - A Knotty Good Time
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A tale how I got all tied up on one scout camp……………………
I was quite heavily involved in the Scouting movement when I was young. During the years I was involved with that movement, I made many good friends, some of whom I still catch up with on a regular basis.
In fact it was one such friend, whom I shall call A, who helped provide the inspiration for this story. We'd caught up with each other just before my overseas trip to the Philippines and in between downing a short one or two, spent some time rehashing our Scouting experiences. He teased me how they had tied me up but good one scout camp a long time ago. (How could I ever forget?) I'd never really forgotten that particular experience but A's joking really helped the memories come flooding back, particularly when he reminded me how he had instigated that incident.
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I first met A in Cubs and it was around then a solid friendship was formed with him and his younger brother, T, with whom I still go fishing with on a regular basis. We graduated from Cubs to the Troop more or less at the same time. It was a great thrill for us, being presented with our new scarves and proper woggles. We were also presented a brand new Scouting knife in a leather sheath to signify our ascension into the ranks of the Boy Scouts. We were no longer the "littlies" - at last!
My Scout troop was especially active - we were lucky to have some truly great scout leaders, some of whom were absolute characters and genuinely loved the outdoors and scouting. It was an active and enthusiastic troop under their guidance - even the parents were heavily involved especially in fundraising and camp/hike logistics such as transport and provision of trailers/storage for all our assorted camping and hiking paraphernalia. With their enthusiasm, it was little wonder that we all quickly formed a great appreciation for the so-called great outdoors.
There is something about being in the bush that does much to calm the soul. We used to go on hikes lasting from two days to nearly a whole week. These took us through some staggeringly beautiful scenery in some of the most out-of-the-way spots deep in the bush or 'wilderness' as the Americans call it. Swimming in an icy cold snow-melt and crystal clear river on a blazing hot day beats hell out of splashing around at the local pool (the only real down side was the lack of young nubile babes to perve on.) People like PH will understand what I mean when I say that there is something almost hypnotic about gazing into a campfire with the flickering flames to keep you and your thoughts company after sundown, with the familiar noises of the bush around us.
The wildlife was amazing - in Australia, we have some of the most unique flora and fauna in the world. Kangaroos were a common sight as were the not so cuddly koala 'bears' - they have sharp claws as one scout leader found to his cost and a shredded jumper when he tried to pick one up - it went mental and he dropped it real quick to unsympathetic screams of laughter. Snakes were an ever-present hazard though no one ever got bitten - they were more scared of us than we were of them - though it was not an uncommon sight to see one sunning itself on some rock or near by the river or stream. Possums and generally friendly wombats were a regular nightly sighting - occasionally, they would be bold or tame enough to sneak up and grab food we held out for them then dash off to devour their prize.
The bush was also alive with the music of the bellbirds and their ubiquitous "tink tink," the raucous laughter of the kookaburras and the hauntingly beautiful songs of the shy and reclusive lyrebirds, so named for the lyre shape of their tail. We rarely if ever saw them - the only sign of their presence was their music. Huge wedgetailed eagles floated overhead on the search for prey.
In between hiking, we also used to go camping on a regular basis. We went camping maybe once a month or so. It was then we generally took the opportunity to put what we had learnt into practise - particularly cookery and knot tying practise etcetera. It was generally on such camps that we had the chance to earn merit badges towards our Pioneer, Explorer badges.
Many of us became more than competent bush cooks - besides which, it is amazing how good food such as bacon, fish or chops can taste when cooked over a crackling campfire outdoors and not in the comfort of home. My theory is that it is not only the wood smoke that imparts such a wonderful flavour to the food but that the company and surroundings also have as much to do with it too.
There was also a heavy emphasis on knot tying - with a view to eventual construction of various structures on our Scout camps as well as earning various related badges. (Now you know where I got my knot and rope skills from!) Flying foxes which is simply a piece of rope strung very tightly on a downwards slope from one fixed object such as a tree to another, carrying the rider beneath on a seat mounted beneath a pulley were enduringly popular if not especially challenging projects. It was easy to reach alarmingly high speeds… stopping was always a problem… One of the best was a 75 metre flying fox that took the rider down a steep slope and across a small lake at the bottom. However, most were much shorter. We also built 10 metre high wooden towers with a lookout platform on top.
Our most ambitious and complicated project was the construction of a nearly 25 metre rope 'suspension' bridge with wooden supports at each end - it was an awesome sight. It was quite a feat of engineering and once finished, proved strong enough to support nearly the entire Troop. We built all these from nothing more complicated from wooden poles of varying lengths and seemingly a million feet of rope. The amount of rope and wooden poles we used to transport to our camps was really quite staggering especially if a major project was planned. Therefore, there was no lack of tying materials on hand…
One particular long weekend, (with a public holiday attached on Monday) after arriving at our favourite camping destination and pitching our tents and constructing toilets and cooking facilities, we were finally given 'free time,' meaning we could now relax. During the football season, we often used that time to listen to the progress of the various games on the radio and bag each other depending if your team had won or not. Since my side, the St.Kilda "Saints" were perennial losers, almost permanently entrenched on the bottom of the ladder, I was generally on the wrong end of all the teasing. Jibes like, "Why don't you barrack for a good side like so and so" were distressingly common. Therefore, when we did achieve one of our (very rare) wins, each victory was greeted by us long suffering fans as though we had won a premiership. Consequently, when we did win a game, I rarely showed the supporters of the losing side much mercy especially since I used to be on the receiving end so often.
It was one such win that was ultimately to prove my downfall.
St.Kilda had somehow pulled off a famous as unexpected victory against all the odds against one of the then top-of-the-ladder sides and boy! - did I ever get stuck into them! At least for a little while, those supporters of said side wished they could be anywhere else but near me in the face of my crowing. At least five of my mates had the misfortune to barrack for the losing side and so there was no shortage of victims to tease. It was beautiful. (sigh) For once I was in 'Saintly' heaven and I was determined to make the most of it. I knew it might be a while before another opportunity presented itself.
In hindsight, I should have been smarter where I chose to tease them. We'd been standing quite near the large pile of ropes and poles dumped nearby in preparation for the next day's activities. I also missed the looks they were giving each other. Somehow, they had reached a silent nonverbal agreement - Let's get him! I was being absolutely insufferable and they knew it. Even though it was all in good fun, they saw little humorous about it at the time. They were hurting from the bad loss and my teasing was serving only to rub salt into the wounds. I was so caught up in the rare thrill of victory to notice two of them edging around me, one on each side.
Suddenly they grabbed me and held me tight. "Hey what are you doing?" I yelled. Grinning, they surrounded me. Since they were both much bigger and stronger than I was, I had little chance of escape. I had this awful feeling that perhaps I'd shot off my mouth once too often…?
"Oh you'll find out," my good (?) friend, A said
'Yeah," another growled, "You talk too much shit - why don't you shut up? I can't stand all this b….t!"
"Don't worry!" yet another bloke smirked. "I reckon he'll be quiet soon enough…"
"Yeah," someone else loudly agreed while he made for the rope.
From previous experience, I knew what they had in mind. I was going to be tied up. Probably gagged too. I began to struggle. (After all, it was expected of me, though I was secretly rejoicing that I was about to be tied up - I hoped they would do a good job) They held me tighter.
"Lets tie him up!" another voice exclaimed. Jokingly, "Since Mase enjoys being tied up so much!"
"Quick, get the rope!" someone said. Apprehensively, I watched while a couple of others bought over a pile of rope seemingly big enough to sink the Titanic. I struggled some more. They held onto me tighter and forced me over to a medium sized log on the ground near the rope and poles. It was about a foot and a half thick - comfortable seating height. My erstwhile mates made me sit on it while the rest of the troop approached, clearly delighted at my sudden discomfort and the equally unexpected entertainment they were about to receive. Additionally, many of them had been on the receiving end of my footy related taunts too and it seemed a good way to relieve the tedium of the afternoon. I could sense a clear lack of sympathy on their part. Since they were not about to be tied up as I so clearly was, they were obtaing a good deal of vicarious pleasure in my predicament.
Just to digress a moment, although my being tied up like that may seem non-consensual to some, it was in all actuality, not. While they had no idea how much I really enjoyed being tied up, I was seen to be a good sport for being able to take it as good as I dished it out. They knew I would not complain and would in fact, seek to obtain some kind of retribution later. This was understood and accepted so long it was not nasty or over the top. Tying each other up was all part and parcel of our various games and we did take care to ensure nobody got hurt. If the person (all too often myself!) who had been tied up was clearly in discomfort we would be quickly released. Also, if anyone absolutely objected to being tied up (and some did) we did not force the issue. Besides, the scout leaders were always around to prevent things getting out of hand.
My hands were pulled behind me and tightly bound together in that classic square lashing we used to bind poles together. I resigned myself to my 'fate' though I was secretly thrilling to the feel of the coarse brown hempen ropes looping, tightening and being knotted firmly behind me. I could not reach the knots. These guys were experts - escape was not only unlikely, it would be impossible. Our leaders had taught us all too well. Naturally, I struggled and complained loudly and generally provided wonderful entertainment for my laughing mates. My feet were just as quickly tied together - my knees followed next. They took care to cinch the bindings and knot everything out of reach.
Another couple of very long pieces of rope were produced by my suddenly much more gleeful mates. They were all smiles! These were used to very tightly bind my arms to my side just below my shoulders and just above the elbows - the remainder went to lash my wrists that much more securely to my back, preventing anything much in the way of movement. Suddenly someone forced a (fortunately damp) cloth in my mouth and secured it there by tightly cleave gagging me several times with a spare scarf conveniently lying to hand - my own! After carefully cinching my binds and checking the tightness of the knots, they withdrew and began laughing. Even the scout leaders had a good laugh at my expense once they were satisfied nothing untoward was going on. It was only moments before the immortal cliche was uttered, "There, get out of that."
I glared at them as best as I could while covertly relishing the feel of the tight ropes lashing my hands, arms and feet together. I was quite securely and tightly tied up and loving every moment of it - but no way I was going to let on - it would have been just too humiliating if anyone had ever found out how much I was enjoying all this. I was very glad I had been seated on that log - just how much I was enjoying my bondage was all too obvious below. I could feel it and I was thankful no one could see. I 'mmmph'd' and happily struggled in my ropes, ostensibly trying to get free, as much for their entertainment but also as much for my own pleasure.
They laughed some more and dispersed, leaving me to my own devices. I didn't even bother trying to escape. The ropes had been too well tied and knotted - besides, I was not going to give them the satisfaction. Ok, so I'll be honest - I didn't want to escape anyway. I wanted to be tied up like this for just about as long as possible.
If only they had known that they were doing me a favour…
My mates sat around and generally kept me company while they yakked on about this and that but they made no move to untie me for quite a while.
It was to be a good hour and a half before I was finally released - just before dinner was to be served. I could not help feeling a profound sense of disappointment as my mates laughingly released me. It would have been sooner but the defiant look on my face told the tale all too clearly - "I may be tied up right now but we still won the footy!" So there. I could only wish that my side would win more frequently so I could be tied up more often!
It wasn't the longest I had ever been tied up but it still ranks as one of my more enjoyable and memorable experiences.
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Mason's Childhood Bound Stories
- 01 Introduction (ff/m)
- 02 Tied up for the first time (ff/m)
- 03 Nicky gets hers (m/f)
- 04 Nicky's retribution (f/m)
- 05 A Rainy Day (f/m, m/f)
- 06 Knot Practise - A Knotty Good Time (m+/m)
- 07 Pirates of the Caribbean (m/f)
- 08 Pirates of the Caribbean (sequel) (f/m, m/f)
- 09 Kidnapped! (m/f)
- 10 Target Practice (m/fm)
- 11 The Escapologist (M/M)
- 12 A Close Escape (M, self)
- 13 Kristy's First Time (M/F, F/M)
- 14 The Mummy (M/F, F/M)
More about Mason - how he got into TUGs, also on the Internet Wayback Machine