Midsummer
Counselling
Every year, I
spend a week or so at a festival in the middle of June, out in the
country. It’s very much a family
occasion, and the reason I go is it can offer the chance for those who need my
help to work through issues to come and see me on – neutral ground, as it
were. I hire a cabin, and dress it up
with lights and things, but it is as usual me, letting them talk, letting them
get their concerns off their chests.
My first
clients this year were a family trio – a mother and her two daughters. They were in their early twenties – one had
long dark hair a brown scarf wrapped loosely round her neck, wearing a white
jacket, blue top, grey pants and shirt brown felt boots. The other daughter had lighter hair, and was
wearing a patterned white jumper, with jeans and brown hiking boots.
As they came
in, however, it was clear to me it was their mother who needed help. She must have been in her early fifties, with
strawberry blonde hair cut into a bob, and had on a grey and white flecked
smock, black leggings and black ankle boots.
She sat down, fiddling with her hands on her lap, as her daughter spoke.
She told me how
they had come back from a shopping trip to find their mother had received an
unexpected visitor – a masked man, who had forced her to open the safe at their
home, and then tied her to a chair in the dining room, gagging her with a hand
towel before he left. She had been
terrified, and had not bene able to sleep properly ever since – all she said
she could see when she closed her eyes was his face. So, they had come to me, to see if I could
help her work through the experience.
I could see how
afraid she was, so I took her by her hands, and asked her what the most
frightening thing about the whole experience was. She looked up at me, and said quietly it was
not knowing what he was going to do – so I told her I wanted her to relive the experience,
but this time at the hands of the two people she trusts most – her daughters.
She looked
suddenly at me, ad then at her daughters, who both nodded as her older daughter
said they wanted to do this as well. So
I pulled a chair over and told her to sit on it, get comfortable, and when she
was ready to let her arms fall down at her sides. It took a while, but eventually she did so,
and I handed her daughter a length of rope each, before telling them to tie her
wrists to the side of the chair.
She watched as
they did this, both of them talking to her as if it was the most natural thing
in the world to do, and I could see she was visibly starting to relax. I then handed the younger women a longer
length of rope and instructed them in hoe to use it to ensure their mother’s
back and arms were fixed to the back of the chair in a way that would not hurt
her.
They then took
a rope each, and tied her ankles to the front legs of the chairs, as I asked
her if she was still afraid. She nodded,
and said she was a little, but it did feel different when it was someone she
knew doing it. So I asked her about how
it felt to be kept quiet with a towel pulled between her lips, and she
described the taste of the cotton, and the fact she could not spit it out.
Her older
daughter then unwound her own scarf, and asked her mother to open her mouth –
she had conquered her fear of the ropes, now it was time to face this. She looked at me, and I nodded, saying she
should continue to trust her, so she allowed the young woman to pull the scarf
between her lips and tie it round her head, as she sat there, the tears
starting to flow.
Both her
daughters hugged her as I said she had done what needed to be done…
When my next
client came in, I smiled – she was a repeat visitor, who I had helped to work
through some rather traumatic experiences on her part, and we met regularly to
allow her to speak freely – well, speak may not be quite the right word,
perhaps express herself freely would be better.
She’s in her
early thirties, with long dark hair, and on this day was wearing a long sleeved
grey jersey dress and knee length black suede boots. She smiled as I opened a bag and took some
white silk rope out, and as I crossed her wrists behind her back and started to
tie them together I asked how she was doing.
“Good days, bad
days,” was her reply as I fixed the rope in place, and then we talked as I
wrapped the rope around her arms and upper body, holding them in place with
bands framing her chest. As she sat
down, I secured her ankles and legs, and then she lay on the floor as I hogtied
her. A folded cloth and some white tape
completed the preparations.
And so, for the
next hour or so, she just wriggled round and let loose all her fears and frustrations,
safely, unafraid…
As you may
recall from some of my past records, I also offer family counselling sessions,
and this particular week had their fair share of those sessions – after all,
this was a family festival. But this
next one was a little different.
These two women
had brought their children to me in the past, having had a visit from the home
invaders known as the Games Player, but I had not realised they had met in the
waiting room of my offices, got to know each other, fallen in love with each
other – and when they walked in with their daughter and son, I was both
surprised and delighted to hear the news.
They allowed me to use their names, so we had Ella, early thirties, in a
denim jacket over a t-shirt, jeans and knee length black suede boots. Her daughter, Lola, was eleven, and had on
this day a pink sweatshirt, white an grey leggings and baseball boots. Sue is a couple of years younger, with long
brown hair, and wore a brown floral print top, black leggings and knee length black
leather boots. She had her four year old
son Carl with her, very smartly dressed in a white shirt, grey waistcoat, black
trousers and black shoes.
So I asked what
I could do with them, and Ella said now they were married they wanted the
children to know they were all one family – and as I had helped them in the
past, I was asked to help now by tying Carl with Ella, and Sue with Lola. I agreed, and asked the children if they
wanted to go first or their mothers first.
They wanted to go
first, so I started by tying Carl’s wrists together in front of him as Lola
watched, and then tied Lola’s wrists together behind her back. I tied some rope round Carl’s arms and
stomach, as well as Lola’s, and then they stood and watched as their mothers
sat on a sofa, while I knelt down and tied their ankles together, and then
their legs below their knees.
I then walked
behind the seat, and made sure that both of them had their wrists secured
together behind their backs, and their arms fixed to their sides with ropes above
and below their chests. They nodded as I
did this, and then wriggled round as the children stood and smiled.
The next thing
to do was to ask Lola to sit on the floor, all three watching as I tied her
ankles tightly together, and then her legs below her knees. I then helped her to lie on her stomach,
pulled her ankles back and tied them to the rope round her stomach – before she
was joined by Sue, lying next to her as I made sure she was hogtied as well.
Carl then sat
next to Ella, smiling as she kissed his head while I tied his ankles and legs
together as well. He then lay along the
couch, his head on Ella’s lap, as I tied his wrists to the rope around his
legs, and then fetched from my supplies a roll of white micropore tape.
They all smiled
as I smoothed a length over their mouths, and watched as Carl wriggled on
Ella’s lap, Ella smiled at him, and at the same time Sue and Lola started to
try to free each other. A truly magical
family moment…
My next client
came in with her eight year old son, and he had a slightly different problem –
he had seen some ‘true crime’ programs by accident, and was afraid a bad man or
woman was going to come and hurt him by tying him up.
She wanted me
to help him to get over that fear, but as I explained, the best way for him to
get over that fear is for someone he trusts to go through the experience with
him. The boy was wearing a black Adidas
sweatshirt, brown combat pants and brown boots, so I sat and talked to him for
a few minutes, his mother watching on, and then asked him if he would let his
mum use some tape to tie him up – the tape would not hurt, and it would be his
mother, not a bad man or lady.
Well, he slowly
nodded, so I handed his mother a roll of grey tape. It wasn’t duct tape – it’s a special tape,
that sticks but does not hurt or damage clothes. She asked her son if he wanted his hands in
front of him or behind him, and he turned and put his hands behind his back,
biting his lower lip as his mother taped his wrists together.
I asked him if
he was all right, and he nodded as he sat down, watching as his mother knelt
down and taped his ankles together as well.
She had long blonde hair, with a pink cardigan over a white top, jeans
and white trainers.
When she looked
at him, and asked if he was still afraid, he smiled and shook his head, saying
he knew he was safe with her – so I asked her to tape his legs together, above
and below his knees, and see how he coped.
As she did this, he tried to wriggle round, but stopped and just
watched.
His mum stroked
his hair away from his eyes, and kissed his forehead before she asked me if
there was anything else she could do. I
then asked if she would be willing to let me tape her, with him on her lap, so
that they could enjoy the experience together.
He nodded when I said that, so she sat next to him, watching as I taped
her ankles and legs together in the same way as he was.
I then lifted
him up and sat him on her lap, before asking her to give him the biggest hug
she could, and put her hands together in front of him. As she did this, I taped her wrists together,
and then wound the roll round both of them to hold their upper bodies against
each other.
They both
wriggled round now, as I let them talk to each other, get used to the
experience, and realise they had nothing to fear if they did it together…
Hanna is
another of my regular clients, but I was surprised when she came in with her
daughter Rebecca, who was holding a stuffed toy lamb. Hanna has long brown hair, and was wearing a
mustard coloured dress with a white collar, dark tights and heels. Rebecca was wearing a blue jumper over a
white blouse, a red and blue peasant skirt, blue tights and black lace up
shoes.
When I asked
why Rebecca was here, Hanna blushed and said she had opened the bedroom door
and seen her and her husband – well, I think you can guess. Now she was asking questions, but she felt
uncomfortable telling her herself – so she wondered if I could help her
explain.
Nodding, I
asked Rebecca if what she had seen had scared or upset her. She shook her head, playing with her lamb,
and said she was just – curious. Well,
curious is good, so I went to a box, and took out a long blue silk scarf. Handing it to Rebecca, I asked her to feel
it, tell me what it made her think of.
As she did this, I took a matching scarf, and as she watched I used it
to tie her mother’s wrists together behind her back.
Rebecca’s eyes
opened wide, and she asked her mother if she was all right, but Hanna nodded –
and then asked her daughter if she would like me to use the scarf to tie her
wrists as well. I – and Hanna – were
pleased she nodded, as I took the scarf, guided her hands behind her back, and
tied then together with the scarf.
She giggled and
said it felt funny, Hanna saying it did but it was nice, as I took a red scarf,
and tied her mother’s ankles together – and then a second red scarf to tie
Rebecca’s ankles together as well. They
both sat there, wriggling and talking to each other, as Rebecca got used to the
idea of been just like her mother. It
was Hanna who then asked Rebecca how she would feel if I was to do what Daddy
did to Mummy, to keep her quiet.
I asked what
that was, and Rebecca said she had seen a scarf between her mummy’s lips. So I found a blue handkerchief, folded it,
and as Hanna opened her mouth I put it in and let her close her lips over
it. Rebecca asked if I could do that to
her as well, so I folded a second blue square, Hanna nodding as her daughter
opened her mouth and let me put it behind her teeth. She sat for a moment, mumbling as she started
to talk, and then she smiled as Hanna leaned over and kissed her forehead. The girl giggled as they tried to talk to
each other, happy she was like her mother – and not afraid…
Imagine my
surprise, however, when the wife of the festival organiser came into my
area. She was in her late fifties, and
was casually dressed, in a brown linen jacket, blue vest top, faded jeans and
tall brown suede boots. I offered her a
coffee, and asked her what brought her to my onsite clinic.
Well, I could
see she wanted to ask something, so I poured coffee into two mugs, and we sat
down and just talked about everything – the festival, the performance by
Bastille at the main tent, some of the carnival acts walking round, things like
that – and then she asked if she could tell me a secret.
She told me of
what had happened to her when she was a teenager – a robbery at her house, and
she had been left bound and gagged with tape on a bed next to her mother, struggling
to get free. The masked men had tied
them both tightly, and in a way where some ropes rubbed on her more than
others…
She didn’t need
to say any more than that to put me into the picture in a general sense, so I asked
if she had sought counselling after that.
She nodded and said she had, but there was something she had never been
able to talk about – and when she had seen people coming out of here laughing and
talking, she had asked them what had happened.
I had no real
issue with that – I make it very clear my counselling techniques include
recreating situations to help people work through the emotions – but I was
beginning to realise what she was trying to ask me, so I asked a standard
question – what she remembers of the event.
She nodded, ad
told me how one of the masked men had pulled her arms behind her back, and tied
them tightly together at her wrists and elbows.
Standing up, I took her mug and put it to one side, and took a length of
cord from a box, then walked behind her and asked her to put her hands behind
her back. She did just that, and gasped
as I quickly bound her wrists tightly together.
As she wriggled
her fingers, I asked her how it felt, and to tell me how she felt. She said it was tight – but it didn’t hurt,
unlike that time. Now, I took some more
cord, a longer length this time, and passed it round her, pulling it tight
under her chest as she asked why I was doing this.
I was honest –
I said she would find me tying her arms at her elbows more uncomfortable, but
this way she would not be able to move her arms very much. She nodded, and watched as I took the cord
around her body, her jacket pulled to the sides as I made two bands above and
below her chest. Tying it off, I then
asked her what the rope that bothered her the most was.
She looked
ahead for a few minutes, and then said it was the one the tied between her legs
– and between her mother’s legs as well.
I asked her if she would trust me to do that for her now, to face that
fear. She nodded as she stood up, and
watched as I tied one end of a length of thin rope around the bands on her
chest, between her breasts, and then let the ends drop to the floor.
She stared
straight ahead as I walked behind her, and then pulled the rope gently back
between her legs, lifting it up and tying it to the bands behind her back as
she tried not to move.
Having said
which, I told her to sit back down again, and she both gasped and then sighed
as she did so, watching as I secured her ankles together, the white cord
sinking into the brown suede as I did so.
I then secured her legs together below her knees, as she wriggled round
and started to moan.
I then asked
how she had been kept quiet, and she said they had stuffed a dirty sock in her
mouth, and then taped her mouth over. So
I used a clean cloth, and the special grey tape, to allow her to keep quiet as
she wriggled round, and let her fears go…
I was about
ready to start to pack up, after a busy week, when a mother and daughter walked
in. The daughter was in her early teens,
wearing a red checked shirt over a black and white striped t-shirt, dark grey
jeans, and black baseball boots with red laces, while her mother had a mustard
coloured jumper on, dark leggings, and over the knee brown leather boots. What was unusual was the fact the young girl
had some thick rope round her arms, and then tied round her wrists, which her
mother had used to bring her in.
I asked what I
could do for them, and the older blonde haired woman started by saying she had
found her daughter with some of the other kids, her arms and wrists tied like
this – and the boy had said the counsellor in the tent had done it to him and
some of the other girls? This was –
awkward – but I have always been honest in my proceedings, so I said they may
have been in here – but what was upsetting her?
Her daughter
asked the same question, as they both sat down – and her mother sighed as she
said she didn’t know, but something did not feel right about this. Which was when her daughter challenged her to
have her arms and wrists tied as well.
I asked if she
was willing to accept the challenge, and when she nodded I made a lasso with
some rope, passed it over her head and then pulled her arms tightly to her
sides below her chest, taking it round a couple of times before I put her hands
together in front of her, palm to palm, and used the rope to secure her wrists
together as well.
As I tied the
rope off, the girl asked if her mother was all right, and when she nodded
grinned before she said she told her it wasn’t bad. The kid grinned, and then told me to tie
their ankles and legs as well.
Her mother
nodded as I took four more lengths of rope, and knelt down tying their ankles
and making sure I took the rope around and between their legs in doing so,
before I secured their legs together below their knees in the same way, the
bands tightly cinched.
Mother and
daughter both wriggled round, and her mother then had to admit it wasn’t too
bad – in fact, it was almost exciting. I
then offered to do two things to make it even more exciting. They both looked at me, and then nodded, as I
tied their wrists to each other’s legs, and then rolled up two long scarves,
cleave gagging each of them with one of them.
I left them
there, struggling and trying to talk to each other, as I started to pack some other
things away…
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