So, I finished up with the top part of my stocks for my little slave girl and I have to say that, at least the second attempt, has my seal of approval. It fits her perfectly, allowing no chance of escape and no room for misbehavior. I just have to coat it in the red mahogany finish and add some I bolts for control points and they are done. As for the foot portion, I have yet to cut the additional hand holes and finish shaping and sanding and they too will be done.
Here are a few pictures of the un-finished stocks and pictures of my slave in them can be found on our Fetlife page.
The other day my folks came by for a visit and through our many discussion topics, we started talking about my deceased grandfather and his love of the project. How he would spend months working on something; piecing it together, shaping the outcome, pouring his love into something, and when it was finished it became hollow to him.
The joy came from the doing, not the finished product. I have inherited this trait from him, this love of working on something and the hollow feeling that follows. Now, don't get me wrong, I will most definitely get much joy out of this finished product. However, I have seen this trait expressed in many ways. When I draw or paint, sculpt or construct, write or tell a tale, the true joy is in the act of creation and in the end the finished product seems empty.
Well, despite this, I have managed to once again prevail in a self motivated project that tested the limits of my skill, means, and time. That, if nothing else, puts a well deserved smile on my face. That and seeing the helplessness spread across my slave's face when she tries to escape from my stocks...