The party was moving along and Yukimura Sensei had just finished his performance, when Osada Steve summoned me to be tied. After the first time I experienced his rope we have run into each other on different occasions, but without any chance to repeat the experience. So it was with curiosity that I approached the stage.

After the customary bow, I turned around, ready for the rope to start. And it did start. Where the first time, his approach was gentle and he first engulfed me in his energy before applying the rope, this time, it was totally different. The first rope harshly clamped my wrists behind my back, and with swift and strong movement, he wrapped the rope around me. 

The suddenness and the fury triggered my fight response, and instead of melting in the ropes, the energy running between us was like a subtle power struggle: I was not openly fighting him or the rope, but at the same time, I was not lowering my guard: if he wanted to make a point of who was in charge, than he had to take that charge. 

The whole process of wrapping me into the breast harness, was punctuated by very rough pulls and pushes and hair pulling to position me where he wanted me to be. 

I'm sure the process was leaving some of the viewer confused as instead of feeling like witnesses to an engulfing embrace, they were faced with the strident crackle of sparking energies.

But then, he tied a rope around my thigh and pulled me up in a side suspension. Perhaps because of the stiffness that had not abandoned me, the moment my leg got pulled up, the rope bit harshly into my muscle and the pain of it defeated my stubborn defiance, and I found myself once again abandoned into the ropes: he had won. 

Time seems to have stopped at that point, and the whole process while I was hoisted up in a  yoko-tsuri, is foggy and dream-like. 

From there, slowly, he started to unwind and untie me, making sure though, from time to time to stress who had the power, who had won. Humbled, I simply let the rope and his energy took over: resistance was futile. 

One leg on the ground, the other to follow; down on my knees, rope thrown on me; head pulled back by my hair to untie the breast harness; more harsh pulling and pushing, all rough physical sensations that felt distant and poignant. 

And the same way it all started, the last rope came off, and it was all over. One more lesson had just been thought me by the rope and Steve-Sensei.

Authors: rida

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