Enjoy.
I get a kick out of you
She hooks the rope around my thumbs, tells me to hold tight.
Then the rope, looped double, goes around and around my wrist. She runs it
through the loop over my thumbs and tells me to let go, pulling it nice and
tight before going back to wrapping up my arm.
“Not too tight?” she asks.
I shake my head.
The rope runs back around itself, then splits and starts
looping around each arm independently. She hums as she works, occasionally switching
the rope from one arm to the other, lacing them together tighter and tighter,
pulling my shoulders into an awkward position.
I can’t quite place the song.
“Can you feel your fingers?”
I wiggle them a bit to show that I can, and she smiles. The
rope is tight, but my hands are still warm; no circulation problems. She can’t
ask about pain anymore; my arms aren’t meant to be pulled together at the wrist
and the elbow, not behind my back.
She loops the rope around my chest, across twice and then
over my shoulders. She builds a nice little harness of rope, lacing between my
arms again, then under them and back to the front. I want to feel the rope on
my neck, but she’s too careful for that.
She ties the rope off and pulls a bit on the extra loop at
the top. I feel pressure all over, but well distributed.
She starts to sing along to the song in her head, softly at
first. “My story is much too sad to be
told,” she takes a new rope and starts to lace it around my left ankle,
tying knots up my leg at regular intervals all the way up to the knee. “But practically everything leaves me totally
cold.”
She takes a new rope and does the same on my other leg, then
moves back to the left and starts tying knots up my thigh.
“The exception I know is the case” she matches with the first rope,
eventually weaving them together into another harness that laces between my
legs and around my waist. I feel a bit unsteady on my feet and start to sway.
She steps behind me and hooks something to the rope behind my shoulders. I hear
her tighten the carabineer, screwing all the way down, then breaking the other
way just a tiny bit so that the equipment won’t seize.
“Steady?” she asks. I feel my weight supported by the
rigging, and I nod. She smiles and goes back to singing. “When I'm out on a quiet spree,” her voice starts to raise a little
bit, and I think I’m starting to recognize the song. “Fighting vainly the old ennui.”
She steps behind me and I hear another click and whir of
metal as she hooks the harness at my waist to a second line. She pushes me
forward, and I hear her tightening the rope like a belay as I go, taking in the
slack. Soon I’m hanging, hovering about a foot off the floor.
“And I suddenly turn and see your fabulous face.” She adjusts the other
rope, so my feet are level with the rest of me, and I’m completely parallel.
She bends my knees and takes another rope, hooking it around my ankles and
then my wrists, hog tying me in place as I hang there, the weight on my
shoulders and my hips rather than my wrists and ankles.
I struggle a little bit, but there’s no point. I have
nothing to brace on; there’s no traction to be had.
She steps in front of me, but all I can see are her boots,
from the toe up to where they go out of my line of sight, just about at her
knees.
“I get no kick from champagne.” She steps to the side and gives me a swift
kick. It’s almost gentle, playful, more surprising than painful.
I grunt, but she ignores the sound. “Mere
alcohol doesn't thrill me at all.” Her voice is louder now, more confident,
with a subtle hint of laughter to it.
“So tell me why should it be true” She hops a bit, getting her feet set
under her, “That I get a” she delivers
another kick, just under my rib cage, “kick
out of you?” This time the hit is harder, and the grunt is more forceful. I
wince at the pain, and close my eyes as I start to swing back and forth from
the force.
“Some, they may go for cocaine.” She reaches out a hand to stop my
swinging, then puts one foot on my back and grinds her boot into my flesh,
doing more than just steadying me. “I'm
sure that if I took even one sniff,” She lets me go, and immediately kicks
me again, this time in the thigh. “It would
bore me terrifically, too.” The muscle in my leg immediately tightens, a charlie
horse of epic proportions. I grit my teeth.
“Yet I get a” a hard kick, the full top of her foot against my side,
blasting the air out of my lungs, “kick
out of you.”
I don’t have any time to recover. She keeps singing. “I get a kick” Another hard one, this one on the other side, making
my side burn, “every time I see.” She
steadies me again, complete with the forceful trample of one foot. “You standing there before me.”
She takes a step back, letting me see the curve of leather
over her knee, but as I enjoy the sight, I realize that it means she’s getting
a running start. “I get a kick,” the
air is blasted out of me so hard I wonder if I’ll ever breathe again “though it's clear to see,” She kicks
again, lightly enough that while it surprises me, it also makes me feel a bit
ashamed of flinching at all, “You
obviously do not adore me.”
She snickers, then draws back for another big one. “I get no kick,” She giggles when I cough after the hit, “in a pla-ane.” She stretches the word
into two, mocking me as she draws back for another kick like she’s planning on
punting me across the room.
“Flying too high with some gal in the sky,” She takes aim, carefully
adjusting her stance. “Is my idea of
nothing to do.”
Just when I think it might be over, I remember the last part of the song.
And she is true to it. “Yet I get a kick”
I’m sent swinging, harder than before, from the impact. I know there will
be a mark; I can practically feel the bruise forming. “you give me a boot” Another hit, just as hard, before I can even
fully register the other hit. “I get a
kick” This one clips me between the legs, sending a blast of agony through
me, “out of you.”
She laughs, makes sure I’m okay, and sits down where I can
see just the boots. She taps her foot like she’s trying to think of another
song.
I gasp for breath, wincing and wondering what else she
listens to.
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