Tag Archives: Hedwig

The Vivid Dreams

I dreamt so vivid dreams last night. They woke me up several times, and the immediate feeling was that I was lost, so lost, and so in need of what ever it was that I dreamt. Because I loose them you see, the dreams, can only trace them back to the fragments and shells, filled with emotion but no clear narratives.

I returned from Japan on Tuesday evening. Jet-lag has been kicking my ass and I’ve felt out of place, not knowing how to land really, because it was a very special couple of days.  I’m in deep need of some debriefing and I guess this is the place for it.
This first post is going to be about a private experience during Sunday night at The Sleeping Beauty, a members club in Tokyo, run by the same man who organized Toubaku, Hajime Kinoko. I guess I’m writing about this experience first, because I need to get it out of my system.
First of all, Sleeping Beauty rocks. Friendly, warm, relaxed, a great feeling, and it was very easy to socialize a whole night, taking the first tube home.

After filling in a membership form, you enter and immediately take off your shoes off and lock them away. A very nice feeling actually, to be barefoot in a club. After that you can change your clothes in the completely kitted out dressing room, that also have showers where you can freshen up. They even have hairpins, soap, hairspray, etc, that you can borrow. Basically, it rocks.
There is three floors, basement with a dancefloor and a stage, plus seating area, the ground floor with changing rooms, a smaller room where it is allowed to use a cellphone. The first floor has the rooms for exhibitionism and voyeurism, so to say.  You can fuck or watch people fucking and there was none of that sleazy feeling at all. And no experience of any unwelcome attention what so ever, no groping, no harassment of any kind.  The first floor also has a big space for rope-related activities and socializing. It is also worth noting that all the drinks are included.

In the beginning of the evening the place was packed, but as the hours flew by, the crowd evened out somwhat. It felt very good being able to walk around without shoes, in relaxed clothing and still being in a sexpositive, ‘kinky’ (what ever that means!) environment. I was not really planning on anything during the evening, although there was that ever present ache, longing to experience rope. Just walking around, socializing, making friends, expressing admiration towards some of those I had seen on stage at the festival, it was quite enough. I also saw the fun-filled show of Esinem, who sparred against his model with a singletail and she sparred against him with a flogger. It turned into something really fast, hilarious, and utterly awesome. I can understand that people don’t want BDSM to be presented as a farce , but also think that it is important to live with a sense of humor, to be able to laugh with each other.  Joy is one of those things that guide me in my ‘lifestyle’ and oh how much joy Esinem and Inessa gave the audience!

People played with rope all evening, everywhere. It is a special feeling when it is like that, like anything can happen. The standard was incredibly high, and there was a willingness to experiment as well, to share and to talk rope.  Private newaza, long, public sessions, demanding suspensions. One of my favorite moments was when a girl dressed in cargo-trousers and t-shirt kept on trying different techniques for a one-leg suspension, so strong and so determined.
Someone who was very interesting to speak to was a Taiwanese rigger called Shin. Sadly, I missed his show during the festival, but hearing him speak of his rope-practice during a talk-show with other riggers he said a lot of things that really resonated with me (that is for another blog-post though) and we had spoken a bit later that evening and then continued doing that at Sleeping Beauty.
At some point I asked if he would be interested in doing some rope, cause seeing all the strands of jute flying around everywhere really made the longing so very strong. Furthermore, through our conversations, he really stood out as someone who I could trust.
Not expecting anything, a bit later he asked if I would care to practice some shibari with him. I gladly said yes, even if there was a bit of a hickup moment when understanding he meant on the small stage. We spoke a bit, and as always, I told about the slightly annoying fact that my body is not always that understanding of what I want to do. Some muscles in my upper-body,mainly the arms, does not work as they should, so a lot of stretching takes place, but despite this, a simple TK can sometimes be impossible. After a bit of faffing back and forth, I decided to shut up, and do that which I felt like I could; trust his judgement.
Sitting half-naked on that stage together with him, I know that is what the fragments of my dreams has consisted of last night.
Fever Ray sings ‘We are capsules of energy’ , and that was how it felt being tied by Shin that evening.

Relaxing in to the TK, feeling strand after strand working itself around the skin, creating tensions and frictions, a tug here, a movement there. And the mouth of mine started suddenly smiling, and all I wanted to give him was all the possibilities I could  possibly give him. I stopped praying to myself that my body would not let my down, cause he made sure I knew it wasn’t going to.
The yoko suri  is a suspension which has posed problems for me before. Either, my arms has cramped, or I’ve felt faint and dizzy, or  it just has not worked out. Shadow did one which was modified for me during a workshop in Berlin before Xmas (something I still need to write about!), but I kind of had retreated to the notion I would hardly be able to do it at all.  And sure, there was a a second or two of hesitation, not wanting to screw anything up, when Shin started to pull the ropes. The moments when you loose yourself into the inbalance, just seconds before going up, and then realizing “He made it possible” and not feeling any pain, any dizziness, just pure joy and adrenaline and life. Shin continued tying, and I continued smiling.  How strong was he to make this body, the one that I struggle with, to work?  How strong is it possible to make another person?

As I came down again, we sat on the floor, he started to untie and I know I asked him to not make it all stop to early, begged for it to last one more minute. He responded in his mother tongue when I started speaking Swedish. The world was perfectly still, right there and then.

And I guess, that was what I dreamt last night, the fragments of that experience.  A world standing still, so perfectly still, so perfectly strong.



Knife and punch

For the second week in a row, last Friday had some play that left me breathless, both literally and figuratively speaking.  This was some knifeplay which for me is always has been very challenging.

B is someone who, together with his partner L have turned into two very dear friends whose friendship I treasure immensely. Not only are they both deliciously hedonistic and perverted, but to sit down and speak to any of them means engaging in interesting and stimulating conversations. And oh, B is totally nutters as well, making comedy-domming into an artform while L always snaps incredible photographies.

At the party where all the ‘drama’ happened between me and Electronic Doll there was also other things going on. Such as B not believing me when I told him that the knife I gave him for B’day indeed was non-Freudian. I.E me presenting him with a knife did was not my way of saying that I wished him to do the stab-stab-stab thing or something similar. But as I said, B did not me believe me at all.

My relationship to knifes is troubled. There is a phobia, stemming from cutting myself by accident quite badly as a kid, and a control-issue that I have managed to direct in towards one single phobia. The result can be somewhat severe, which also makes it really hard for me to play with knifes, since there has been occasions when I’ve fainted due to knives being waved around. But there has also been a couple of good playtimes, as well as sadly, a bad one where someone broke my trust and then being proud over doing so…

At the first party there was first the knife and then the rough body play. And as I was lying down on the floor, my mind is still raising when he traces the blade over my body, then using the whole knife to make me even more aware of it being there. I trust this man immensely so I even if I’m jumpy and slightly antsy, I remain on the floor, trying to not breathe to fast, trying to take it all in, knowing the blade is right there in his hand, that he is moving it around, aiming it at me, flipping it, letting it dance in his hands. And he make me understand that he knows how to handle it, not just holding the knife but giving it life.  That knowledge is more frightening than the proprieties of the knife it self. And I guess this is where my fear lies, because a knife cutting vegetables in a kitchen is not the same as the knife in the hands of someone.  I hardly trust my own hands with a knife, knowing that it is likely that I will cut myself at some point. Its easy to do, no doubt about it. But then the element of someone who knows how to handle it, the knife is really out of your hands. Out of your control.

But after all of that there is still more, and that is the punching game. Now, if I would describe rough body play versus some of the other less direct, more tool in hand play like flogging, there are some distinct differences. First of all, while the sensations from slapping and flogging and the like can actually be very pleasurable,  it is not really that for me with punches. A punch is very intense, a fist in your side leaves you breathless and it is so much more likely that you will try to shield your own body. The thing is, that kind of intensity is enough on its own. It does not need to be pleasurable, because there is the fear there, the anticipation, the way that you have to poise your body, prepare, and then you react, your instinct tells you to protect your self, and you try but in the same time you don’t want it to stop.  And when B wrap a chain around his fist, stares at me, oddly smiling with eyes that pierce straight through me, I only have time to think ‘God, I must be to twisted for my own good’ before I’m so far away. He is adding pressure on to places on my chest that unexpectedly make it hard for me to breathe. I don’t know why, but I am lying on my back,  and I don’t want it to end, in the same way as I want it to stop but still don’t. That conflict, arising from the well- known self-preservation as well as the desire to still feel it, to still feel it all.

A week later and we are attending the lovely rubber-party at a friends place, some more of the action that went on you can read here. Lets just say it was one of the most debauched events this year. Latex definitely bring out something special in people.

B and L are here again, L dressed as the most beautiful rubber doll you could ever imagine and B wearing latex apron and kilt. Early on in the evening B shows me with a big grin that he brought the knife I gave him, and I by then have a feeling that it will not matter what I say, the knife will always be seen as Freudian. After some other shenanigans during the evening we start to play. And this time it is the reverse, first punch and then knife. His trademark glee in the eyes, as he holds me by the throat, tightening his grip and then simulating a movement, making it look like he is visually ripping my throat with his bare hands. And because of the pressure, the preciseness  and the speed, I don’t have much time to think, except when he slows it down, allowing me to think but only because he is building the fear up. After more rough play, I’m already a shivering heap of sensitive nerve-endings and breathing heavily. And I don’t even know how I know that the knife has come out. I don’t even know that it has not, because he leads me to believe it as. Slowly playing around with it over my body, and it feels like every nerve in my body is going to pop. I’m sitting up, this I remember, and I think the ‘knife’ came close to my face, and that is when I loose it. But as quickly as it comes, B notice it, stops and hold me, and I can control it nowadays, I can take a hold of the panic attack and return to the life relatively quickly, especially when I know that everything is safe. We sit for a while, L comes over and we talk. We talk about everything and nothing, and about how happy we are that we all know eachother, that there is a chosen family of us in this crazy town.

And I kind of don’t want to stop there. I really don’t because I know that if one falls off the horse, you should get up again, especially if you happen to like it.  And I happen to like the thought to work on my knife-phobia and get off on it. Not so much sexually, but for the adrenaline, for the rush and for the fear, that is controlled and administered by skilful hands. So instead not jumping on the horse again, I asked if we could do some more, but with me lying down, and I got what I asked for, but now he actually used the knife. Again, tracing it, simulating stabbing and cutting, mixing the speed of this and in general, again, being very frightening. I remembered breathing, most of all, kept it in the back of my head. It was only when he went for the hands, the fingers that I could not do it, with flashbacks to when I cut myself as very young. He changed the focus, and by the time he was done, I was dwelling so deep in the adrenaline subspace that I almost thought I would not return.

I did. And I still maintain, that the knife was not intended to be a Freudian slip of a gift. Somehow though, I don’t think that L and B believe me.



Snippets of the week that passed at Stockholm Pride, 2010:


She asked me how to approach people at a party like we where on. A fetish party. And I realized that after two years, I still don’t really know myself, at least not any formulaes. The way that tend to work the best is to be quite upfront and talk about what is interesting and ask people about them, like anything in real life actually.

We started talking, and after a while I asked her politely if there was anything she was looking for and if there was anything that made her particularly curious.
I must say that I like to top ‘new’ people, those who are so eager to experience, but this person turned out to be more than that. N caught my interest in more than one way and we found common grounds quite fast. The first couple of minutes of us playing a bit later was affected by slight stress from my part, being nervous and was not sticking to a original plan. But after less than 2 minutes I found the place I wanted to move towards, and away we flew. And how it flew.
She sat with her hands tied infront of her, as if she was praying.   The rush was immediate. My arms reaching around her, and we are going from being fairly new to eachother to close friends, knowing eachothers skin better as each strand of rope came closer to her.

The ropes, touching, holding, waiting, wrapping strand after strand, her breathing getting heavier, her face disappearing bit by bit as the rope first covers her mouth, then her eyes. Sensitive nerve-endings, and a no force is needed when putting the rope in her mouth, following her grasp, as one of my hands covers her mouth, and the other her mouth. And when my palm strike her skin, it is just another way of not using big gestures, but keeping it less than large, holding on to a space that we have created together. The pinwheel making her shudder, my fingernails slowly digging in to her skin.

When directing her to the floor I don’t want to get to far away from her, and as her back start to take even more beatings,  I still keep close, always a hand on her shoulder. It is close I want to be, not leaving her side.


This is a translation of a text that was written by a lovely ropepartner of mine, after our first session at a all women’s play party. She wrote this as she wanted to explain how it affected her, and after reading it, I was so touched that I asked if it was ok to publish it here,and with her permission, here it is:

…After a while at the club, my body started to itch. Rope, rope, rope. I only knew one person there who did anything with rope and who might have some rope with her so I scouted her out. V. She was happy to tie me up a bit later, and as I was waiting I continued speaking with people, but now with a different expression in my face. A special smile. Those who saw that smile, pointed out how happy I was looking.

V made me take of the horrid heels and take off the jewels before she started to unlace my corset. And there was a certain manner in the way she took a hold of me, with a firm grip placing my arms with the wrists resting against eachother behind my back. The euphoric feeling rope gives started to slip through ny whole body. Not even thinking about it, my eyes closed. Despite the music and the people around us I created a small bubble for me, the rope and V. I think it took 3 pieces of rope before the arms were in place. Unprepared I went down on my knees when she pushed me to the floor. When she had asked me what I wanted I said that I wanted my arms to be stuck, but that she could tie more if she wanted.
After she had moved me around down on the floor and letting me lean on her a couple of seconds, just enough to feel the security of another person, V bent my right leg backwards so that thigh was parallell with the calf. Three rows of rope wrapped the leg before moving on to the next leg.

My objective here was to write about the beautiful feeling of rope. But it is so hard to grasp. It crept up slowly, bit by bit, that feeling together with the ropes. I’m filled with such comfort, when ropes are handled in the right way. In the end, I was place on the floor, lying on my stomach. The only thing I could see was peoples feet. When V placed a rope at my mouth I finally parted my lips and a small ropegag was in place. After that she wrapped rope over my eyelids. Carefully, bit by bit so to make sure I was ok. I did not know if I was first, but then it felt so good. The total freedom in helplessness, captivity, without me feeling a bit helpless. Just utterly happy and soft. She played around with the ropes, moved them. I just let her do it, suprised over how my breathing changed, suprised at how pleasureable it was. I loved her way on handling the ropes.

And I’ve been thinking about the difference. I’ve been tied a lot before, but very rarely the goal has been the tying itself. Instead the goal had been about being helpless, stuck, or a part of a quite hard a mean play. But this was rope for rope’s sake. And sure, in one way I felt dominated. In one way she showed who was in charge by her way of moving me around, the way she touched me. But it was different from previous experiences with rope. It was different and I liked it. A lot.

Written by Volang, 2010.
A couple of days later, and I am tired, anxious and trying really hard to get in to partymode. But instead of socializing, I’m doing more crying and am not even being able to express my wish of being tied up and properly beaten.
But after first tying myself up and spending some time with the chosen family, I realise I got mummification tape. Very handy. So after getting a positive response from S, mummification is a go.
S start by wrapping my arms separateley, somewhat different from what I am used to, but it proves to be even more efficent in preventing movement.  People gather around as I’m twirling into the tape and I’m aware of them looking, enjoying it and starting to relax for the first time, even if my brain is still not shutting up, bombarding my senses with impressions and troubled things.
When my upperbody is wrapped, including my chest, head and nose covered, S flips me over on to the floor.
Lying down, feeling the wraps travelling down my legs, furthering immobilizing and I can’t see, cannot move and hardly speak. Immobilized and I cannot even care about how it looks like. Their eyes gazing, but they can’t reach me here, the cocoon of black plastic shielding me from the world.
Time disappears, and suddenly thoughts do too. Drifting in and out of the space,, and travelling to a place where the mind shuts up, shuts down, and it is such a precious place. And as I arrive there, I linger as long as I can.
I don’t know how long time after, but after a while I ask S to slowly cut me out. This is alway a moment of slight fear, even if I know that safety shears are used. As the black plastic leaves my body I’m reborn, an intense feeling of katharsis only intensified by the small fears of being cut.
Entering the world again, with fresh breaths drawn filling my body with slowmoving energy. Looking around, everything is like it was before, except that it is not. The couple next to me, prepping the needle scene when I first started to disappear in the black plastic, is now not prepping anymore. Both of his arms, his chest and his back is covered in needles, and I realise things like that takes some time. One look at the watch and it tells me an hour has passed. I fell asleep in the plastic, in my cocoon.
And I feel good again, born again, flying on low-intense energy, delightfully buzzing in my stomach. After sleeping an hour, wrapped in black plastic.

London Festival of the Art of Japanese Bondage- Part II

Dear reader; I am so sorry for the delay with the updates on this blog.  This summer has been amazing, but I was caught in a net of writer’s block and lazyness.

As the Sunday evening came, so did the main-party. Thanks to Clover and Dave I was provided with  an obi, holding together the kimono I wore.It was also Dave who kindly tied said obi It was indeed one of the most comfortable outfits I ever worn to a party, which just shows that it was not a real kimono… All in all, it was not a genuine kimono nor a ‘genuine’ look, but it was very comfortable to run around in that outfit.

By Echo Photograph

Bunny and I met, her looking gorgeous as always. We wanted to play during the evening, and as the first show started we were already up on the mezzanine, but when Dasniya Sommer went on stage, we took a break to stand and watch a mesmerizing dance between two people. Sommer’srope-partner was wrapped up in a piece of fur, creating beautiful contrast to Sommer, who was naked, if one disregard her amazing haircolour, which matched the color of her pubic hair (attention to details indeed.

The fur and the music made me think of Russia for some reason, but speaking to Sommer a bit later, she said that it was more alluding to animals at play. The double suspension, in which her partner was first suspended and then she joined in was magical and very different from many other shows seen before.  The shows throughout the evening had those unique qualities that made my both cry and laugh, never becoming bored. But as any party, there was a lot of socializing going on, making me miss a performance every now and then.

Shadow did one amazing show again, and with her signature of strong, playful session while still remaining in full control, maintaining the energy from the beginning to the end, using her body as well as the rope to shift the balance of her gorgeous rope-bunny.
It was indeed an evening that both showed the skills of the riggers but also of the rope-models.

The show by Mistress Amrita was one which took us to a interesting place where there was sea, and mermaids and nets, the performers enclosed in a big plastic bag, giving them a sphere where we could see them and they could see us but still a small layer of plastic was between the audience and the performers, giving it even more of a otherworldly feeling and maybe also pushing buttons on voyerism and exhibitionism. Who is actually being watched?

The mermaid was released from a net,suspended, taken down, transformed into a human, to then be pushed head first into water. This piece was so well thought out, with music, outfits, ropes and props taken in to account.

Boykitten,  did a dramatic and powerful selfsuspension in ballet-boots At one point he started to thrash around testing the ropes to the limit and pushing his own body and in the second after, complete control and stillness.  Very impressive and also one of the youngest (the youngest one?) on stage during the weekend.

The highlight was Kinoko’s performance. He had no music, and it was like you were watching private play between two persons. I’ve never been in a room with a couple of hundred people and it been so silent as it was during his performance. When he hit with tiny bamboorods on the top of her feet, you heard the audience draw their breath, and you heard every squeel from Arisa as she was placed in positions I did not know was possible. There was a complete trust, and I can really recommend to view the video. Sensual, emotional, painful, perfect.

Two other performances, both spellbinding and intense in their own right, was still working on very different levels.  Nawashi Murakawa drew us in to a world which felt like travelling through history, to the japanese country side, him walking with two gorgeous female prisoners with ropes around their necks.

Please press play for music similar to the one used in Nawashi Murakawa’s performance.
Hypnotic to say at least, and it really gave the audience something completely else.  The music, the rope-artistry, scenography, it all came together and made complete sense, creating a dream.

Contrasting that was Esinem and Electric Fairy, who did a school-themed suspension scene, with even the music fitting perfectly. (Queen and Pink Floyd to mention a few).E.F was the naughty girl caught perving over her teacher, who then discovers masses of rope in her bag, some sex toys and then an apple. Suitable punishment followed. Esinem always effects you as a viewer, I’ve never seen a show or play by him and not felt it. He and E.F oozes of chemistry and his ropework  is fast, precise and in his sadism there is so much care shining through that they both radiate.

When the shows were all over around 3 o’ clock in the morning the play and party still continued and I only had about 3 hours of sleep before heading back for a final day of related activity.  Let’s hope that post wont be taking as long for me to write as this one.

Vac-bed, hands and Sybian vs the Hitachi

Ahh, the lovely Ladies Who…

We have met up before, and once again we managed to raise mayhem, but this time we remained in the London area and met up for a nice brunch before we got started.

The thing was that after a couple of intense revision weeks, I was in deep need of letting go and not control a thing. Which is where the vac-bed came into the picture. As I crawled in (such a weird feeling to crawl inside a sheet!) and attached the mouthpiece, the brightdaylight disappeared and my body and mind went in to that very weird, almost sedated mindset of bliss. As the air was sucked out, it felt like I was floating in cool, dark waters, halting the busy thoughts but still anticipating waves or currents. And they came. First in the shape of a hand touching. Then, one more hand. Then; pinches, small slaps, nipples tweaked and air-supply restricted. Hands, many more hands, the feeling of a body lying on top of me. Being held tightly, held down, ‘crushed’ or manipulated all lies within the realms of different types of bondage, and this vac-bed gave touch a whole new dimension. A vibrator, held against my crotch, I’m trying to meet it but sheets are still preventing some movement and so does the hands holding my wrists. Every cell of my body is feeling every touch, and I’ve left the sedated far-away floating, now instead being aware of every second, hearing the giggles of the Ladies. I’ve since long fantasized about this, imagining myself accessible and fondled, by hands and bodies and mind, everyone of them touching me differently. I did some guessing work, and thought I recognized the minds behind the touches, but it really was not what was important. Instead skin was just like the sheets of the vac-bed. Skin to be touched like the sheets were touched.
Later that day I also had a go at the famous Sybian. It left me a little perplexed. While it is lovely to see a sex-machine that is not designed to penetrate someone in 150 km/hour and actually puts some focus on the rest of the female bits, my allegiance still is with the Hitachi. There is a couple of reasons. First of all; the positioning is quite wrong for me, the whole straddling things is difficult. Either, all the weight is on the legs or the pelvic bone, to hold you in place. Many of us who tried it used a footstool to rest out upper bodies on, to make it more comfortable. But for me it is almost impossible to come standing up, and still very hard while sitting like that. Second of all, the vibrations, which are scary strong and very, very loud, makes you feel like you are humping a motorbike. My brain felt a bit like it turned in to milkshake. The Sybian definitely demands some technique and is probably the hottest when it is forced, but I must admit I had a quite nice orgasm. It was easy to handle technically, also had a lot of attachments (sadly ‘flesh-coloured’ and many quite scary) and surprisingly small. But I am a Hitachi-girl at heart in the end.

London Festival of the Art of Japanese Bondage- Part I

First, an apology:
This post has been long due, and I’m sorry about being so slow. It was due to personal reasons and other worldly things getting in the way of my typing paws.

At times this account of the event is going to be personal. I will do everything I can to not make it too private and uniteresting for you as a reader, but the weekend in itself became something very personal, making it hard to write about it in any other way.

When last year’s London Festival of the Art of Japanese Bondage (LFAJB) took place I had not started to tie yet. I was still enjoying restraints, but my knowledge about restraining someone with rope was limited to the cat’s paw and that was it. I was not in the country when the first annual LFAJB took place, but heard so much about it, and since my situation had changed quite drastically now it was an event I was really looking forward to.
It was easy to click home a full weekend pass, but I was more hesitant about booking a ticket with Kinoko Hajime’s masterclass, which would be the start of the festival on the Friday. I was hesitant because of many reasons. One is that I am a beginner. As a beginner I still fiddle with the basics, getting it not entirely right from time to time. Another thing is that I don’t think I do shibari at all. I do have an interest and a certain affection towards the aesthetics of Japanese culture , but when I tie I can’t call it shibari per se, because that is not yet what I have learned. Because of these things I was afraid to be a liability instead of someone who would be an active learner. In the end I decided it was too good of a chance and did my best to silence those weird voices telling me I would not be able to do it.

As I met my lovely ropebunny for the course  in the morning, we had a talk, drank some water and found our way to the Resistance Gallery,  and we had some time to relax inside while the prep work for a whole weekend with rope went on around us. A huge suspension-frame which needed about 6 people in order to get in place was placed on the scene on the ground floor.

The venue consists of a main ground floor with a stage and a mezzanine,both parts used for classes. With one suspension frame on each floor, one large one on the stage and one slightly smaller on the mezzanine, there was plenty of possibilities for flying. With mats provided for the floors, it was also possible to do a lot of floorwork, or just sit comfortable
.There was a lot of beautiful art on the walls, a stand that would sell really nice japanese food, including sushi that unlike

most part of London was not overpriced. The bar is always in-expensive at the gallery, providing not only alcohol but also tea and coffee for those in need. The whole space was decorated with rope and bamboo-rods, making it homely in a different manner, but homely nonetheless.

Food and drinks on the spot was much appreciated, making it possible to stay late during the whole weekend. Esinem sold his rope, so did www.ouchy.ne.

As the class started I realized I did not need to worry. Kinoko Hajime demonstrated two upper-body ties, both of which names I have forgot (those who were there, could anyone add their wisdom and tell me?) and we students followed him as he tied. It was a hands on, step by step class, and it was very healthy to get this kind of break-down of the components of the ties. The ties themselves were beautiful and demonstrated by our tutor very thoroughly, communicating partially through a translator and partially through  basic English. It became very clear early on how skilled he is, both in his craft and as a tutor, very humble and relaxed, taking a lot of time to make sure we got it right, walking around looking at all of the participants work, correcting here and there or just giving a compliment or constructive advice. All this made up a very relaxed atmosphere. The second tie was demonstrated a bit faster and I just could not keep up the pace, but thank heavens Kinoko handed out a step by step guide to this one, with 112 steps 🙂

I understood that the experience of the participants was split over the whole spectra, some people tied for the first time, while others followed him and then dared to developed the ties, but what caught my eye was how it was a moment to get an insight of the structure and thought behind a purely Japanese style tie, and how specific Kinoko was on this point.

Before I forget it I also want to say a massive thank you to the ropebunny, Electronic Doll, who was a big help if I lost track or was unsure of what I was doing. She was indeed quick to note small things, and I probably would not have been able to finish in a dignified manner without her help.

The two and a half hours ended all too soon, and we packed our bags, parted ways and left for a couple of hours rest before the opening night.

Returning to the opening party in the evening, there was people socializing and viewing the art, as well as tying every here and there. This was something that would continue throughout the weekend, people were not only tying during the classes, but used the space as much as they could, and in every manner possible, which is just one of the many proofs of how successful it was.
As the evening went on, the shows started, and due to illness I had to leave all too early, missing both Kinoko’s first performance, but also missing Maleficent Martini and some other amazing performances.  To read an account of what Electronic Doll saw and did during the Friday evening, click here.

What I did see was Shadows performance, together with Felix. Shadow is a major inspiration of mine, both as a performer and as a teacher. Watching her play with Felix, tying and suspending him touched something very deep within me, a feeling that I later discovered that I shared with many. There is so many strong connections between them, and they shared their experience with each other as well as inviting the audience in to a very visual, emotional and as well physically demanding performance. Felix is very much taller than Shadow but that was of no importance when she started to tie him up.  Their performance was about much more than the physical difference between them (although it is very impressive to see what can be done!)  and it felt like I’ve could have watched them for hours, as she played with him, using rope, antique scissors and knifes, a red cloth, her body and her mind to move her partner.

The classes during Saturday and Sunday

As Saturday came I was happy about not staying up too late and left fairly early together with the guests I had in the house for the weekend, Clover and Wykd Dave, to go to the gallery.
I met Bunny there who is someone who I have been tying with for some time, we had bought the couples ticket in order to get as much as possible out from the weekend together. The first one was a talk with aforementioned Shadow, who spoke about how to take care of rope. Now some people, like me, are lazy bastards. I love my rope and I like to be able to take care of it well. So far I’ve only bought treated rope and I’ve never been disappointed. But she made me a bit curious, and as the summer approaches I think there will be enough time for me to treat rope for the first time, thanks to a very thorough talk done by Shadow. One of the top tips she gave was the microfiber towels that are excellent for cleaning the ropes, something I’ve started doing.

Another talk was Esinem’s talk on bondage and safety. I attended this, because my general view is that even if you heard it one time before, or 10 times before you can always hear it one more time. One of the most important bits that he mentioned was nerve-damages, how they can occur, what a damage can be and above all, how different we all are. As he said, no one looks the same on the outside so why would we look the same on the inside? Esinem is very keen on getting in contact with anyone who has ever experienced nerve-damages, as a bottom or top, by the way.  Since there is not much information or even research being made on bondage-related nerve-injuries he want to rectify that. If you have something that you would consider sharing on the matter, I think he would not mind to get in contact with you.
Another thing in the rope and safety; I find it very handy to be aware as a bottom also, to know your body, and know how you might react to different things. Security is for everyone basically.

Me and Bunny did a chest tie class as well, together with Kinoko. This was a repetition of one of the ties from the masterclass, which was very handy to get another try with. Kinoko did several talks during the weekend, one of which was a demo about some of the differences from how shibari looked like 50-60 years ago. There was many details that were different, such as cinches on chest-harnesses, or wraps of rope around a limb, and although it might sounds like small differences, he emphasized the reason why shibari had changed since. To sum it up in one word; safety. The developed style is now much more safe, and it is only those who are very, very experienced who should try to emulate or play with that style. Another class with Kinoko, was one in which he went through how to actually make rope something more than wrapping a person up. He demonstrated different techniques, using everything he could from the rope, like sound and smell (tracing the rope close to the ear or face), to himself (different punctuation, varying speed,) and there was always, always much emphasis on balance and not only aesthetically but also the physical body.  One of the first things Kinoko did was emphasizing this, showing it how with his hands making sure that the rope-bunny is grounded and as a way of starting the scene it was also interesting to see how he made that into an element in which the scene started, and through different types of touch, for example making sure that a chest tie is leveled, he placed his hands on the rope-bunny, using them both practically and as a way of maintaining and harnessing the contact. This can be seen in the video’s that Esinem so kindly has posted from the weekend.

Two workshops were running in the same time, one on the mezzanine and one on the ground floor, with the mezzanine one often on a more introductory level.

Many of the classes were hands on, some of them talks, and some of them demo’s, due to practicalities. It is literally impossible to cover all of the topics that was dealt with during the Saturday and Sunday, and my memory is not the most well-functioning, but some other topics; self-suspensions, lower body ties (including a suspension harness by Kinoko that made the translator having to say ‘cunt’ on stage). Seeing Arisa (Kinoko’s partner) squirm from the tight crotch-rope and to the be suspended just centimeters of the ground was something else. Other topics were; connection with your rope-partner, partial suspensions, introductions to Shibari,introductions to suspensions, bondage photography, yoga with rope, suspension and transitions, and that is only a part of the selection.
Due to the large selection and a tight schedule delays occurred early, and when there was a small mishap with a introductory workshop being cancelled, Dasniya stepped in and held beginners classes by the side of the stage, creating a third possibility to learn more. What was great about all of this was that the organizers did not have any problems with letting each and every class take the time it was supposed to, and everyone who was a part of this really thought on their feet, adapting to what was happening. Even then during the breaks people continued tying, talking about rope etc. All this made the learning days into something wonderful.

So, that was the part which dealt with the classes, what more happened? The Saturday evening had movies on the schedule, one of which was the London premiere of Kinbaku, the art of Bondage (2009), which you can see here, but also order from Esinem if you want a copy of your own.

The movie itself was wonderful to see on a larger screen, and once again I’m amazed how Finns manage to turn everything so dark but still keep the passion. Is it the vodka or the sauna’s that create it? Maybe the reindeer meat, I don’t know.

After many movies and a lot of tying everywhere, many were venturing out to Subversion which had a Japanese theme for the evening. I was not one of them, I was still feeling rough in a bad way and wanted to last the whole weekend.
As a slight side note, but still important, was my sudden pang of ehhh…bravery when I started talking with Kinoko during the evening. I said how much I appreciated what he taught so far and was looking forward to the coming show the day after. And all of a sudden I hear myself, through the interpreter, asking Kinoko Hajime if he, at some point, maybe, could possibly want to tie me. I think I out of nervousness added a couple of words that I for now don’t remember, but suddenly I had said it and thought that the worst thing that could happen was me getting a no. I didn’t. Stunned, I saw him smile and nod, and saying something in Japanese that was translated into a ‘yes, maybe tomorrow?’.

Being tied by Kinoko Hajime

I guess that was when I started to blush and stutter a bit. But I decided later to skip the party and got some sleep. Or well I was mostly nervous, twisting and turning in my bed, trying to not think ‘what ifs’; ‘what if my body goes into sick mode and I will miss this’; ’what if my muscles decide to fail me in ways they have not failed before?’; ‘what if I don’t know my abilities and just asked for something stupid?’; ‘what if I can’t communicate with him when it’s time and I need to tell him something’. And so on.
On the Sunday, the classes started a bit later to give everyone who was out partying a chance to get a few hours of sleep. When me and my friends arrived, the classes had already started and we sat down in the sofas to listen in a bit on the class that went on at the mezzanine.

Kinoko sat also in one of these couches, we said good morning and then all of a sudden asking me if it was possible for me to be tied up  in the next break. I nodded and smiled (and probably blushed) and my nerves went off again.

He started with me sitting on the floor, tying my arms in front of my, like I was praying.From the beginning, he was paying attention to every little detail, correcting the ropes if they were not millimeter perfect. I found myself looking at the red ropes he was using, thinking that I had nothing to worry about. Being tied by Kinoko is something I will never, ever forget. First of all, all the worries I had about language, not being able to verbally communicate disappeared when he started to speak to me with rope and I had only to feel to give an answer. Second of all; I felt strong, despite being tied tighter and tighter my muscles responded and dealt with the different pressures. The way he tied me, made me feel strong, and I was allowed to feel his skills  trough the rope. When he attached the first rope to the suspension ring (kindly provided by Wykd Dave in the last minute) everyone and everything around me disappeared, except for what he was doing and it became harder and harder for people to invade the bubble that was the rope, him and me. The cloth used as a blindfold soaked up a few tears I shed. Strangely, I really recall that feeling, of tears drying off, disappearing, rather than slowly dripping. I was suspended in a sitting position, and the minutes flying like seconds. It was like every cell of my body could feel the red rope and I truly hope that he felt that I felt just that.
The untying was as dynamic as the tying, as Kinoko utilized the rope, its sensations, sounds and movement. When the blindfold came off I suddenly saw everyone, became aware of people watching and I just wanted them to look away, while in the same time feeling proud and somewhere deep inside, the exhibitionist started to giggle. We moved aside a bit to do the last untying, but it was not until the final rope was gone that the bubble was almost gone. My legs were shaking, we thanked each other and my legs were still shaking. They continued to do so for a large part of the day which meant that I missed a lot of the classes, at least as my brain refused to function properly.

That day went by quite quickly, and then it was time for the main-party. Which will be in a separate post.

Congratulations to Norway and some other important matters

First of all:

About a year ago, perves in Sweden were not to be considered sick anymore.
Now, it is Norways turn:

The Norwegian Directorate of Health has decided that certain diagnostic codes are now invalid in Norway, thus changing the Norwegian version of the international diagnoses register. (ICD-10)
The following diagnoses are taken out: fetishism, fetishistic transvestism, sadomasochism, multiple disorders of sexual preference, and transvestism.
– In our opinion there is no basis, neither in today’s societal norms nor in professional health thinking, to classify these diagnostic groups as disease, says head of the Health Directorate Bjorn-Inge Larsen. By excluding the use of these codes in Norway the Directorate wishes to contribute to the weakening of a general opinion that certain sexual preferences, sexual identities and gender expressions may be seen as states of illness.

The really interesting article can be found here

Congratulations Norway! The activism has given result, and joined Denmark and Sweden as being countries where you can be a healthy perv.

For those of you who need more proof of how stupidity reigns the world with weird methods, read this excellent wallraff article on how to ‘cure’ gay men. Amongst many things that will make you gay is your (neglecting or too neglecting) parents, Freemasons, sexual abuse or just in general not being in touch with oneself. I’m just telling you, if you had happened to have missed that.
To read more about exgay movement, Ex-gay watch and Beyond Ex-gay is a good place to start.
I also wrote a bit about the possibilities of a cross-over between ex-gay and ex-bdsm and how it could be manifested. That you can read about here.

One writer that always makes me feel something is Penny Red. She writes so eloquently and passionately about politics, feminism and a whole lot more that I go all mushy and sometimes teary-eyed. Writers like her are needed, voices like hers are needed.
Three of her latest pieces resonated strongly within me, one on the misogyny and racism hidden in the debate over the veil , one about trans-activism and also, very appropriately slamming the  Comment is Free-article by Simon Jenkins who is ‘defending‘ the pope (cause that ex-nazi, priest-peadophilia cover-upper needs sooooooo much defending…) in this excellent post ‘Does Simon Jenkins shit in the woods?’

That’s all for now folks.