The enjoyment of pain and pushing your personal limits to the extreme has always been a part of our family life.
As a family, we have always gone every month throughout the year to a family friends house. It is an old isolated farmhouse which has been modernised together with the outbuildings which have been converted into training/exhibition areas/dormitory.
There is no membership as such, its just a group of like minded friends who meet to improve and show their skills and tolerance to pain and torture. All clothes are hung-up in the cloakroom on arrival.
I'm told I was taken to the parties as a babe in arms as was my sister who is eighteen months younger than me.
From a very early age I accepted and enjoyed pain as a norm and the first time I realised that perhaps I was different was an occasion when I was playing with a group of youngsters from our road. We used to play on the canal bank which ran at the bottom of our garden. Running parallel with the canal was a rail track. At one point, a stream was piped under the canal and railway through a concrete tube about 4 feet in diameter. I was dared to crawl through the tube which I thought was no big deal. OK it was dark, full of slime and gunge and the stream was about eighteen inches deep but I remember it being easy. As a follow up to this event, one of the boys got the washing line from his house and tied it to my ankles, I then crawled though as far as the rope would allow and I was dragged back which I remember enjoying because it was more of a challenge. Another thing I remember from this period was that I was always nude when playing on the canal bank and could not understand why no one else was.
Another incident that I remember was one time I was in our garden and from the area of the canal I heard a dog trying to bark who was obviously in trouble. It was winter time and the dog had fallen through the ice so I stripped off and rescued it, for which I received a letter/certificate from the RSPCA.
My mother was a good athlete. She was a runner and played hockey. At the farmhouse she still undertakes cross country obstacle courses which are set up with near impossible tasks. Suffice to say she comes back with her body shredded and filthy. Any minutes outside her allotted (impossible) time results in a whip lash which she always takes in silence to much applause.
When I was young I was used as a ball by a group of adults and thrown about between them. This involved being caught by any limb that came towards the catcher. As I got a little older I began being caught by my manhood. This seemed to happen so often that it eventually felt no different to any other body limb. This eventually led on to me taking up weight lifting by this pair of body parts. I can now hang with ease by them and have just reached a new goal whereby, whilst hanging I hold a swing which my sister sits on. Getting to this point has involved hours and hours of intense training at home but I am extremely proud of this achievement and last weekend I gave my first display at the farmhouse receiving rapturous applause.
My sister is in competition with me, lifting (huge) weights on her pierced lips. We also have tugs of war! She is full of muscle, tough as old boots, and is a very good ALL weather hill runner,
I'm into road cycling.
Due to health problems our father only helps with the organisation of events.
Fortunately our garage, at the house where we have lived for a few years now, has been converted into a home gym, complete with shower. There are times when three of us are in, grunting and groaning. Obviously, it goes without saying that we are nudists at home.
Also, it helps greatly that we all work in the family business which is based at home.