Tag Archives: Rope

Rope Practice Diary-New Objectives

Still catching up with backlog. 

A couple of months ago I wrote down a couple of objectives for the ropes; what I wanted to focus on in order to develop my ropework. I guess it is time to evaluate and develop new objectives as the time goes on. (see previous post)
The objectives then were:

Muscle memory to solidify foundational elements
Visualisation-  why I do what I do and think constructively about the ties.
Connection- was a questionmark then.

The main objectives on the foundations, especially in regards to the TK and Kinoko hip harness was to tie this with a focus on getting it right, tensions, placement and consistency. I’m most pleased with how the development of learning the Kinoko harness has worked out, both in my hands and in my mind. I understand why I want to do what I do with the harness, tying it goes smoother and smoother and more often than not, placement and tensions work out on the person I’m tying it on, which to be fair, is the most important bit. Every once in a while I tie it slowly, slowly, in order to keep track of myself and not getting into any bad habits. Slowly does it also for the TK. Back then I thought I was going to focus on the three rope TK, but in reality, it is the 2 rope TK that has been getting most of the attention, and it has really improved. But in the same time I’ve noticed tying the ‘third rope’ is still somewhat hesitant and not at all as smooth and efficient as it can be. Thus; the third rope will get much more attention now, especially in regards to muscle memory and efficiency of movement. I want to be able to use it if I need to, as well as exploring a couple of other versions of it, but for now, focus will be placed on the third rope. Same thing here, tying slowly but with effiency. After a couple of good pointers from Peter Slemrian, I think I’m going to head in the right direction when it comes to this, especially in regards to a couple of tiny movements of the fingers which will improve the flow.

Speaking of Peter Slemrian and his advice; I have finally a game plan for smoother sailing on my suspension lines. For some time I’ve felt like I have fumbled too much, had far too messy lines and felt line handling being somewhat laborous when it should not. The last couple of weeks I’ve been extra attentive when it has come to this; avoiding or cleaning up the mess and still being secure, but it wasn’t until the past weekend when Peter saw me tie and then pointed out how I was actually working against myself and making it more difficult than it really is that I had some practical tips that I can move forward with. Now there is something I can do on my own, and that is to practice handling my suspensionline. In this I will utilise the technique he demonstrated and made me test, over and over again. Extra attention towards not pulling the rope through the half hitch towards me, but pass me, like it is driving by. Also, being precise and a bit more thorough with the second half hitch will make me feel more comfortable, rather than stressing around.

After the workshops with Kazami Ranki, I have tried to really remember what he told me, which was essentially that I needed to relax a bit more. “Quick hands, slow heart”. This is the next thing to focus on, but not speed for speeds sake,but to rest into what ever it is that I, to mentally focus and trust that which is in front of me. Have a long road to travel on this one, and it will probably be a part of the overall objective for all the rope work. But it is a good one to hang on to.

A challenge just received from when I went across the Atlantic is to start to dare to move away a bit more. Cannon and I was discussing rigging styles and asked each other in what ways our rigging would improve. He asked me to try to step back a bit, to not always be right up close and I think there is something there. As much as closeness is important, I need to remember that it is not about vincinity but intimacy. If I work properly, the rope is the link, not my direct body. Indirectly he reminded me of that, hope the rope is the link, or the conduit; let it do it’s work. Rest into it, take a step away; create some space around the bottom, or even hesitation. Did exactly this in a session last weekend, actually as a start of a tie, standing and waiting behind the rope bottom almost in the other end of the room. Rest assured I will continue having this in mind as it produced very interesting results.

Last but not least, I want to work on angles. For this, I will go back to the classic yoko zuri, the Osada Ryu style, rather than the Kinoko style. The one which has the hip harness is spectacular from so many perspectives, but I found myself becoming lazy and not thinking enough about levels and angles in suspensions. It is easy to do something quite random, but I need to develop a better eye if there is something special I wish to achieve with this. So I will play around with and see how different angles in the side suspension work on the bottom.
To sum up I shall focus on:
The third rope on the TK (efficiency and stability)
Better control on my suspensionlines
Quicker hands, a slow and focussed heart
Playing with connection that is not based on actual vincinity- daring to take a couple of steps back.
Yoko zuri- levels and angles bootcamp.

All with the same engagement in tying it slowly and really focus on intent and how come I do things. At this time, I’m just happy to be back on track 🙂


Rope practice Diary-Objectives I

So objectives change. This was my first one I wrote back in October perhaps. Things were not really good then on many levels, but tried to have something to focus on.

Dear Diary..,.

I try to keep myself a bit busy, try to keep going with that which is important. One of those things is to practice,practice,practice. Today Bambi Kiss and I have had our second practice session together and is keeping on top of our diaries in order to make them regular for the coming weeks as well, which feels good. It is so easy to get comfortable and sizzle out,
This diary is for me to keep track of what we go through, what we think about it and stuff for me to remember. I don’t know if it will always be published here as I still try to catch up with 10 blogposts but hey.

My general objective for 2011 (what is left of it) is to rope my ass off… D’oh. But on a more concrete level I wish to focus on:

*Muscle memory to continue to solidify the foundational elements, to put them further and deeper into my fingers and my spine. Slowing down and being thorough (speed for speeds sake is not that interesting anyway, technique and movement more so). Especially in regards to the 3rTK and hip harnesses (to begin with!), but also about the macro-elements of efficient movements and really push my fingers and body to utilise skills learned. Knowing is not enough, doing gets you further.

*Visualisation: Where do I want to go together with the person I am tying? Some people might add a ‘how would I do that?’ to that part, my I’m not sure at all that is included here, as the road we take quite often diverge into other paths less expected and it is not something I want to exclude.

*Concretizise: thoroughly think about the elements of ties, about what they consist of, and why they consist of this.

*Connection? This is a tricky one. Both me and Bambi know that practice is practice. We do have a good baseline and have done a connection based scene or two. Furthermore, it is easy to slip into elements of play while practising, no wonder. But I have also made it clear that my head space right now is one which is very untoppy, with an element of the dominant side of me being burned out due to outside circumstances. Just to think about a connection driven scene makes me shake and cry, miss his skin, the scent, the way in which he moves. I can’t and I wont go there unless the situation itself materialise as such. Not now. Not yet.

There, that’s about it.


LFAJRB 2012 proudly Presents: The Ichinawa-Kai

So, finally the weekend that I had been waiting for arrived.  The London Shibari Festival, or rather, the London festival of the art of Japanese Rope Bondage. Don’t try to say it too quick to many times, it will just twist your tongue. The opening night of the festival had an all Japanese line-up with the members of Ichinawa-kai, a rope-collective from Tokyo, lead by Kinoko himself. A description of this group in the program read:

You could say that Ichinawa-kai is similar in many respects to the peer-rope projects that are taking place all over Europe these days, where both devotee’s and aficionado’s from all back grounds and age groups can meet upon common ground. Hajime Kinoko likes to refer to the group as a ‘Comprehensive Kinbaku Entertainment Organisation’ which in Western terms might be better described as affiliation, collective or co-operative. In simple terms; the kindred spirit. Everyone involved takes Kinbaku seriously and dedicates a great deal of time and energy to continually develop their wider understanding of the art. However, it is not all serious! Within the group there is a sense of openness and fun…

In the months leading up to the festival, a lovely letter came from Kinoko and with that more information about the group itself. You can read more of that here. On the first night of the festival, the lineup for the shows consisted of the members of the Ichinawa-Kai, i.e. that is a completely Japanese line-up in Europe. It must have been a first. I had 4 people visiting for this occation, including the amazing Niki who was my bunny, or a bunny (rope-slut <3)  for the weekend, and two new found friends, and one person who recently discovered rope, the Doctor. We made our way to the venue after a delicious Indonesian meal, and got seated on front row. And boy were we in for a treat!

First performance was with a favourite female kinbakushi of mine, Yoi. Her performance at Toubakutouched me deeply, and she was now back with the same model. The concept this time was much more simple, there was less play and a very much traditional, straightforward rope-session, displaying the models body but also torturing it through difficult poses or through suuchi-nawa, shame and exposure. Yoi is a very special rigger who has an incredibly calm presence, and a no fuss way of doing rope. A friend of mine described her as a very stern madam. That very same friend then developed a huge crush on this only female kinbakushi in the collective. I could definitely understand why. Yoi could be the kind of teacher that would show up and a whole class room would get quiet simply through her presence. With her tiny model, (who is going to to remain un-named) I got a sense that this scene was about disciplinary measures, the model very petite, rather school-girl like.

Photo by Mooschief Images

The model entered the stage carrying a single red candle. As she sat down, Yoi reached over her shoulder and opened the underskirt, lit another large white candle, took the red candle away and pushed the white one into the mouth of the model, remarkably deep. As the candle wax slowly dropped, the model sat still, only ever shivering ever so slightly, waiting.
Yoi’s tying is functional, but with beautiful lines and maximum exposure of the model. She is one heck of a rigger and a sadist; applying plenty of crotch-rope, while looking completely nonplussed as her model squirmed from the tight ropes. Yoi did not make any large movements, but it was in her calm presence and the precarious situation of her model that we as a audience could rest in. The stern madam, controlling the room she was in. The purposeful but still understated way of tying played with both the shame and the shyness of the model, where the part where the exposed genitals was not framed as a big reveal, instead it just was a simple development of what was already there. The model was tied into a demanding yoko zuri- sideways suspension, and once more had the candle in her mouth. Once untied from the suspension, the previously mentioned crotch-rope came into action.  As a result, the model was finally carried off stage, a faint smile mixed with a blissed out look.

Shigure was next on stage. Him and his model was remarkably different, especially since she was not a very tiny one, even by Western standards. We get used to seeing the tiny models from photos and performances, but this was a very strong reminder of the wide spectra of people who love rope. Her body, although larger than usual was also strong and beautiful, and it was indeed liberating to see rope on this level with this kind of model. I must also say that this performance, although not extremely showy, was one of my favourites, because of their immensely strong connection, their relationship really shone through the ropes in an almost overpowering manner. There was a special way in how they interacted and how she was exposed to the audience, or rather, not as exposed as many of the other models. When she shifted position, he made sure her Juban was covering her, the way he looked at her and treated her made me as an onlooker almost ashamed of butting in on what seemed to be a very private session. But they still tied in front of an audience, and managed to merge that very special gap between creating something captivating and still staying true to themselves.  They both started out kneeling on stage, him closing his eyes and then opening them again, fixating them on a point just above her neck. Her eyes were closed, but it was possible to feel the focus of them both. As he started to tie, it became so clear that he tied so intensly with his whole heart, that he tied for both of their sake. It was the small things; the way in which he looked at her, the way in which he wiped the sweat of his forehead with a cloth, then he did the same thing for her. His hands were precise, seeing with them where the rope went rather than trying to look and she responded to every single touch, with a calm confidence. She was tied into another yoko zuri, but completely different from the previous one we saw with Yoi. When she was mid-air, Shigure took a tenugui and covered her face, to then pour water all over the cloth. Waterboarding mid suspension. Nothing forced or over theatrical, but still intense. After this she progressed beautifully into a guyaku ebi. There was a quiet moment here, when he took her face, held it with both of his hands and they looked into each others’ eyes. Both me and my friend the Doctor was deeply touched by this. He spoke about it later and said that it was a display of two people who were very happy together, and that they shared that happiness with us as an audience.It was a display of deep love and happiness. There was so many expressions of deep emotions and devotion to each other but it did not get sleazy, au contraire, it just was about their journey together. This intensity was palpable, and what made it more special was that they were one of the couples who wished to not have their performance recorded in any way. Instead it was a performance which they did for each other and chose to share it with the us, the audience. A truly unique experience.

Photo by Mooschief

Next on stage was Bingo, who got to represent a very interesting kind of sadism, the subtle sadism perhaps, if that is the correct word. Him and his model, the extraordinarily beautiful  Akane, came up on the stage together, her with purple rope wrapped around the neck.

He started by wrapping that rope up and showing how it was connected to the arms that werealready tied behind her back, then started to tie her into a takate kote.

Photo by Mooschief

This followed by tying her legs, then suspending her sideways, a sideways suspension which then progressed into an inverted suspension. It was beautiful to see the way in which he progressed in these, because it was not just about the shape, but also about the levels. It went from being a fairly low suspension to a higher one, as time went by. Incredibly dynamic. The way in which the sadism was ‘subdued’ then was that it was not the kind of sadism which utilise direct heavy force, but it was the little things, the small expressions of it, tugging slightly on a rope, the way in which the explosive parts came during the transitions and progressions of the suspension and the heavy handed smacks on Akane’s buttocks, which left huge marks, only after getting her arse hit two or three times. The best way I feel to describe this was through using the word graceful, there was so much grace and poise throughout the performance,subtle sadism and with a very strong soundtrack it was yet again a show which left me and my friends in a rather quiet and contemplative mood.

By Patrick Siboni

Next person up on stage was Ero Ouji and  his m’jo who was dressed in a white kimono with a red hairband, red which became a reoccurring colour during the performance. They started by her sitting right at the edge of the stage, him standing further back. Through the sound of his sandals slamming down into the stage, he marked his presence and she bowed for the audience (and him).

By Patrick Siboni

She bowed as deeply physically possible, remaining absolutely still, and the submission she displayed made the hairs in the neck stand right up. He walked closer, very slowly,while she remained in her deep bow. He took a hold of her very resolutely, tied a very strict 3TK, before starting to remove her kimono. She twitched, tensed up, then relaxed, before standing naked in front of the crowd. He removed the hairband, which was then transformed into a tightly tied fundoshi, savouring the moment of her squirming, forcing her to hold the front part of the fabric with her mouth. The way in which they interacted was electrical, the Doctor described it as if he ‘really, really wanted her’.

We then got to see how she was tied to a bamboo-pole that was suspended. All the transitions then took place through the pole, which acted as a mid-beam. When she was fully inverted he took out a large single tail which handle was encrusted with diamond-like stones and started whipping her. It looked amazingly impressive and was indeed a show, but I noticed somewhat of an interesting part which I would like to talk about a bit. When he started to tie the pole together with her, the focus shifted from being one which was about a very strong connection to one which was about the show, about the expressions and the technicalities of this very impressive rig. There is a balance there that all performers thread, and I really liked the showmanship together with the craft he displayed in this show. What we cannot forget was his wonderful rope-partner, expressive and incredibly strong.

Photo by Mooschief

By Patrick Siboni

The last performer of the evening was also one of the main performers, Kazami Ranki. Known as the ‘Atrocious Nawashi’ due to some very sadistic movies he has made. Seeing this man in action during the weekend actually wanted me to rename him as the ‘Smiling Nawashi’. Him and his model Gestalta had only met that very day, but this did not show at all in the performance. As it started, they flirted with each other in a very understated way, he smiled, their eyes met, he started tying, their eyes met again, he smiled even more. There was a great preciseness, no nonsense way in his style of tying, a preciseness that brought out so much of the elegant beauty of Gestalta, but moreover, how they moved together, how it was something they did together, and needed each other to do what they did. There was not much of the expected ‘atrociousness’, but instead we were treated to beautiful rope.At one point, Gestalta was suspended, he kneeled down, seemed to ask her is she was ok, she nodded and then he did a straight pull, pushing her into a single ankle inverted suspension. This, together with the insanely beautiful hair of Gestalta, which was revealed at this point, made it look like she was floating through the air, although she was in an intensely demanding position which very few people can pull off. This was indeed one of the main-acts, and it was wonderful to see him making the rope to be all about the one that he was tying, an understated way of introducing himself and what he loves to do. Later he wrote a letter which was published on Fetlife, explaining the way in which he tied and felt about it:

Dear everyone,

I truly appreciate that the organisers invited me and gave me such an opportunity.
Also thanks to all staff for looking after me very much.

This time, my Kinbaku performances were in the very simple form which does not include a whip nor a candle, unlike my ‘hard’ style which you have known.
It is because I thought that I would pull out M-jo gestalta’s beauty just by using only rope.
With her, detailed communication was taken through the interpreters.
Then my performance have become that form.
Although I am not sure how it was projected in your eyes,
I think that the view of the world of me and gestalta was able to be taken out.

It was honorable that I could teach rope bondage to non-Japanese students in the workshop in London.
At first I thought that bad things would be checked and corrected according to the method of your own style of Kinbaku.
However, when I heard that you wanted to learn Kazami’s own style, I really was moved and I appreciated it.
I hope there will be another opportunity which I can teach more Kazami’s Kinbaku style.

I would like to do my very best so that people in the world may further raise their passion and stronger love for Kinbaku.
I am looking forward to meeting everyone again.

Kazami Ranki

Thank you for reading this far. There are plenty of more posts in the pipeline, after all, this was only the beginning of the festival…

The City

It is windy. Very windy. At my left I can see the harbor and the lights from the The City. At my right, the open waters. Right in front of me, I see the Golden Gate Bridge. It is the last evening of a whirlwhind 48 hour short visit to San Francisco, where I travelled after Shibaricon. It feels like I could stand at this spot for the rest of my life. The air, the wind, the sea, the breathing that is possible to do, how every breath fills the lungs with such intense life. It is strangely grounding, a moment in time where everything else stops, except for time itself, as it keeps on getting darker and darker and colder and colder. My trip in the US is coming to an end, and it is here that I’m reminded of the experiences I’ve been lucky enough to have, they move through my mind like flashing images, or a brief reminder of a sensory experience; skin twitching or a muscle aching slightly, remembering the sound of a creaking rope or leather gloves, slowly closing over my mouth.  Not even 2 weeks in the US and it feels like I know who I am again. Like the skin is fits around the body and the mind can distribute itself over the thoughts in an even fashion.

The 48 hours in The City were made possible by two people whom I am honored to have met and eternally grateful for their hospitality; Bus Driver and Pink.  They happened to be two of the first people I met at Shibaricon on the first day, and Bus Driver also helped at one point to spot during a demanding suspension. They, together with other awesome and wonderful people, made the con even better.
In the end of  Shibaricon I was looking for somewhere to go as I would have a couple of extra days before the flight back to Europe, and had thus put up a note on a notice board saying something like Busty Swedish Blonde seeking Bedspace. With a limited budget, crashing at someones’ couch seemed like the best option. Not before long, I was suddenly invited to stay at Bus and Pink, an offer which was impossible to refuse. Said and done, ticket bought and bag packed, leaving O’Hare landing in San Francisco. Slightly dazed and rather confused due to tiredness from Shibaricon but  in the same time on a strange adrenaline high  I made my way through the airport and was met (after getting lost…) by my hosts, and their adorable Peanut.

When visiting people who generously open up their home to a Busty Swedish Blonde they have only met a couple of days earlier, I was hoping intensely for not being one of those annoying guests and pointed out I could be fairly self-sufficient so they would not have to interrupt their day to day life due to the Busty Swedish Blonde. Lets just say that I had no idea they would have none of it, as the following two days I was so well taken care, showed all the sites, taken to the kink-shops, parties, et cetera et cetera. After meeting the housemates, having a good night sleep and taking it slow in the morning, Pink showed all the kink-shops, including  MR S and a visit to Good Vibrations, which was fairly awesome to say at least. During lunch time, we spoke about the kink scene and leather and her and her partners involvement in the community. It is organised on such a different level that would make London look pretty much like a bunch of party obsessed perverts. Which we kind of are, but that is beside the point :). Pink  also showed me the SF Citadel, a great permanent BDSM space which was really huge and well equipped.
I the end I visited Wicked Grounds  more than 3(?) times in less two days, had one great lunch, a huge milkshake and just hanging out. After a quick change of clothes, I was dropped off at Wicked Grounds one more time, waiting for Bus who took me to Bondage a Go-Go (BaGG). Now, if there is something that is awesome, it is to experience different kinds of scenes different parties. I become like a horny sociologist, trying to take in as much as possible. BaGG had a great feeling to it, although I must admit that we spent most of the time in the play area so did not see much of the rest of the club. What I did gather though, was that BaGG managed to fuse a couple of things together which another club in London has tried but not succeeded  in doing: fusing the industrial/goth scene with kink. This was mainly done through the awesome music (as an industrial chick, it was heaven to get to play to so many great tracks). In either case, it was a really great place, with a small albeit very well managed play area.

As I had expressed an interest in Bus’ flogging skills (with Pink  politely pointed out that he is a sadist..) I felt slightly nervous, but also strangely centered as we entered the play area. Was strapped to the cross, and not before long the falls of the floggers started to rain over my back. This was one of those floggings which takes you so far away you are in lala-land. A warm up which was exactly that, not just a short interlude before the ‘real’ thing, but  carefully tempered and ministered. And it was the tempo and the sensations that got me;  florentine flogging at its best, moving with the music, but also creating music on its own; syncopations, emphasised beats, the sounds coming out from my mouth all of a sudden. It is like letting bodies do the talking, instead of the vocal chords it is the warm skin, the muscles, the un-planned guttural sounds, goose-bumps, the breathing, the pulse, skin involuntarily twitching, the back arching, moving away from but still drawn towards the pain. You simply don’t want it to end, but it always does. Something which was very special during many of the experiences in the US was that it felt ok taking time. Taking time sitting down and talk properly for a starter, but also, when in that state of bliss after play, it could take the time it took. Not always, but sometimes, it feels like I has to get myself together in a orderly fashion not too long after the play has finished, especially at parties (not on the private parties, but regular ones). But here I was, in lala land but also sitting at the floor, with Bus assuring me there was all the time in the world. Everything was like it was wrapped up in cotton, even the music was muted. And sitting there, at the floor, was like the most natural place to be in. It became a reminder to the self; to stay present in the moment. Around us, there were others playing, and the passion and skill people showed made my warm body feel even warmer.

A while later, when having landed, there was this little itch; I needed to tie someone. Was introduced to a lovely lass and we spoke a bit. She felt like playing, and I was borrowed a suspension ring. We set up, first rope is out of the bag, heart pounding already. People are busy chatting, standing next to the playspace with drinks, dancing. The suddenly, there is a stronger light and a voice announcing that a guest from abroad is here to demonstrate some of her rigging skills; and obviously people turn immediately around. For a brief moment I think something like: “SHITFUCKITYOHDEARGODSAVEME”, while pretending like I’m tying something really important behind the lovely girls’ back in order to hide what is probably written all over my face. Then one of those VNV Nation tracks comes on; a steady beat and a baseline,  a deep breath and then go. The adrenaline hits, the light makes it harder to see who is watching, and her body become the only thing that matters. With the adrenaline and the pace of the tying, it is almost like trying to scratch into her, dig deeply, removing layer after layer. It is not really pretty the rope, off centre and unbalanced, but god damn, it is so fun. Encasing her in a cocoon of rope and then just physical rope and bodies in motion; toying with her mind, moving in like an attack, forcing her off balance; a fistful of hair, her neck exposed. As the wham bam adrenaline wears off, I want to continue with the rope but with a less barrage of the senses, so the untying takes place on the floor, while sitting down, the rope is warm and so is her body, resting my cheek against her shoulder, controlling every movement, pushing her with my chest, adding tension rather than removing it even if the ropes are coming off. The last wrap around her wrists comes off; we have both forgot everything about the crowd. The evening continues, with more awesomeness, and when we walk back to the car, it feels like being wrapped up in cotton.

On the second day, I get showed around a very special and interesting place; my jaw dropping for each and every door that was opened. Suffice to say, I did not think about anything else than what horrible acts could be committed or was being committed. Those really abject, filthy, degrading, sadistic…..see, it is even hard to type anything about it!
Pink then fetched me and showed the touristy things, including Lombard street. We also found some sushi, and dear me, that sushi was basically perfect. Also walked on the Castro, which felt strangely touching. All this queer history and activism, the significance really struck, especially when visiting a LGBT-history museum. I am so grateful for those who paved the way, who fought back and stood their ground.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

That evening then finished with a visit to view the scenery described in the beginning of this post but also biting someone very cute in a dark parking lot.

I would like to thank Pink and Bus Driver who made the visit so unforgettable with your generosity and kindness. There is probably not words enough to express this gratitude, so I’ll just stop waffling.


The sunbeams across the floor

We have known each other for years, mainly through the spoken word scene and mutual aqaintances. I must have been 16 the first time we ran in to each other, and two summers ago he made delicious cocktails in the bar around the corner from where I lived a short summer. He is tall, with a distinct look, somewhat rockabilly style, shy smile and a very nice voice. I never really thought there was any interest from his part, which was why I was so surprised when he emailed and asked about next time I would be in Sweden and if I wanted to meet up. It was a busy but very sunny week, and drinks felt like a perfect break from DIY and random annoying stuffs that needed taking care of.  We headed down towards the beach with cider and swimwear, ending up walking along the coast-line talking, before finding a a spot in the hot sand. It felt good, no, it felt better than good. It was relaxing, like a rekindling of a friendship, even though we never been very close. The first dip in the sea this year was refreshing, and I started to feel almost like a teenager again, in that very silly way. The sky was clear blue, a light breeze easing the burning rays of the sun. We spoke about our tattoos, what they meant to us, continued talking about poly and how respectivley finding our poly-identities had changed our lives. There was something… different about him, something more open, settled, and grounded. I think he kissed my hand first, then I kissed him. A slight taste of cigarettes, his gold-tooth feeling smooth, a hint of cider, the skin smelling of sun. My head rested on his chest, and I could hear his heartbeats.

There is something in the way he kissed, and how we spent the rest of the evening together.  We have a drink, talk. And time after time again, it feels so simple. We speak of kink, just by accident, finding common grounds. When returning to his, we make out on the couch for hours, my lips are become sore after all the kissing and it is a bit like being a teenager again. Then there is something rather special when I play with his nipples. It is like playing with an instrument  of flesh. Low moans, deep breaths, half-open mouth, closed eyes, whimpering. In the morning, the sun trickles through the window, beams dancing over the floor.

We continue to meet each other during the following week and we talk, cuddle, kiss, eat ice cream, dance, talk more. There is a security with him, in that he knows what he wants from poly and feel very secure about it. The last evening, we meet for some ice-cream and then decide that we should really go for an evening swim after he has finished his work shift. Said and done. The beach is almost empty around nine in the evening, but we have blankets and swim suits and sit down eating strawberries. It becomes almost a bit kitsch, watching the sunset; the rays of the sun turning dark pink. I run into the water, thinking it should be very cold but it is not. The evening air is now colder than the water. We walk further out, the waters are still shallow, and then I just have to attack him. As he loose the balance we end up sitting in the water, he gasp as I straddle him, pressing my legs tightly against him. Dunking him into the water, seeing how his eyes are so still under the water turns somewhat other worldly, he is so very still, pushed under the surface.

When we dry up, he pretend like he does not need the large, warm cardigan he bought and give it to me. I quickly realise he is just pretending, as his tall body is shaking after the swim and we swap. It means that I can move better now as well, and there is both an element of care there, but also practicality. How am I supposed to tie someone up if their muscles are so cold they cannot move? He is a sweet romantic guy, but I want him, his body and his mind completely focussed on us, on me, on the sensations, not to be shaking due to being cold. Stawberry eating, heart to heart, kissing, watching the sun disappearing into the sea. After literally lying on top of him to make sure he is not shaking anymore we swap sweaters so I can tie more easily. The blindfold goes on, again to make him focus on the feeling of the experience, to focus on us, on me.

It is getting darker and darker outside and the mosquitoes are out in full force, and I have never really tied while being under attack from mosquitoes. Got the thin ropes with me, and decide quickly to only do a short scene, in order for us to come out alive and with a drip of blood left in our bodies. Bloodplay took a whole different dimension that evening. It is his first experience of rope, and even if the tie is a standard one, his expressions of the experience become nothing like a standard one. Prepare for gross generalisation: Usually, I find men having a harder time letting go into the experience, they try to pre-empt the next move, or can’t stop anxiously twitching, requiring a high level of intense and often physical stimuli to settle into what is happening  and to remain present in the moment. Sometimes this can be really interesting and intense, but sometimes, like when sitting on a beach, the mood is different. His body dances beneath my fingers, but not twitching or moving anxiously, it his pulse and heart, slightly shivering skin, that lush mouth open, breathing deeply in and out, only a tiny, barely noticeable gasp. When the shape of the tie is done, I start moving the ropes again, leaning him back into my arms, closing my hand around his nose and mouth, stealing his breath, pulling a wrap of the rope tighter with the other hand. Kissing his forehead, it becomes clear that the bugs are biting through his sweater, and the untying clearly has to start. Sometimes, tying up the ropes is just as good, if not better, than the build up towards the finished tie. But here, it is just as good as everything else. He is first quiet, when we cuddle. Then saying something, and after expressing a wish to go back to his in order to remove my clothes I simply lift my dress and sit on his face. His tongue is working away, the beach is completely dark, can hear the waves, and the geese which are the only ones present except for us. I ride his face, pin his head and upper body down, pinching his nose shut, his licking gets more frantic, the lack of oxygen give him a sense of urgency. I sit there, grinding my wet cunt against his face until I come.

Back home at his, we end up in the sofa again.  Unbuckling the belt while his eyes meeting mine, then tightening it around his neck, pulling the noose tighter and tighter. Holding him down by the knees then releasing the pressure. The evening is now pretty warm, and we go out for some fresh air on the small balcony. It is passed 2 in the morning, and the city is completely dead, a Sunday night, only one or two people out walking. And he looks so incredibly dapper in his smoke robe, it is gold and the decadence it gives to the whole situation only gets better as he kneels down, yet again. This time I just kick back, relax, he knows exactly what to do, and the only thing I need to do is not to get loud, as the people standing underneath the balcony having an evening cigarette would appreciate a bit too much.

Before we both pass out I hurt him some more, he definitely had earned such pleasures, the metal sticks are scratching his back, pressing against his balls, making him whimper and shake. The skin of his back is warm when we fall asleep in each others arms. I wake up in the morning, looking at him sleeping, following the patterns created once more by the sun beams.

Now I’m back in London now and I miss him already.

Crickets:Tying with Naiia- Shibaricon 2011

We have been tying for quite some time by now. The class with Midori is about speed and flow drills, and she is indeed drilling us. We are told to pick a tie we know, but not too well, something which we can challenge ourselves with. 7 minutes for each exercise, which include tying with the dominant hand tied behind your back and vice versa. This is something which forces the rope-tops to think about how to move, how to use their body and mind , and I’m not the only one who has heureka moments, as it is possible to hear a ‘aha!’ or ‘ ohhh, I get it!’ during the class. When the 7 minutes are up, Midori’s phone lets out the sounds of crickets and you are asked to start to untie. Hence, this sound now become known as ‘the crickets of undo’.

It is indeed a drill like class, and tying with the lovely Naiia is getting my heart pumping, concentrating and focussing how to move, not only me but her, thinking about effiency of movement, something Zamil teaches but that I’ve so far sadly has missed, but also about the effect of said effieciency on Naiia. She seems to settle into the physicality, and it is indeed wonderful to to tie with this kind of bunny, that responds and gives feedback, both verbal and also physical. This is actually the third time we played with each other at Shibaricon. First time had been in a corset-lacing scene one of the earlier days. Lacing a corset can be done in many different ways; she was tied with her hands above her head, un-laced roughly and then relaced even rougher, again and again, pressing different parts of the corset together, undoing it again, pushing and pressing her ribs against that wonderful garment that is a corset. Gasps and giggles are following, and it is so great to relax into a scene like this, with a focus on one simple act that can be done in so many different ways. It is not an elaborate or complicated scene, but one in which we can just relax into it; I’ve laced corsets before tying any ropes what so ever and she is experiencing for the first time. The second time we play is in Graydancer’s RACK role-play class, where I play the dominant who is pestered both by an over-zealous dungeon monitor as well as having a very bratty sub, played by Naiia. Although this is role-play and she played a role which she usually would not, it was interesting to interact with her in that role. And now, while being drilled by Midori, we say that we definetly need to find some time to play properly, preferably before the weekend is over. It is Monday already, and it seems like we don’t have much time. But then Midori annouces the final drill; to tie the tie with both your rope-bottom and yourself blindfolded. My heart beats a bit extra, because I was asked to do the same once in another class, to close my eyes and to focus on the movement and feeling the tie instead of watching what I was doing.  It produced really good results, and I start to think that perhaps this might be our moment.

We are sitting down already, my hand is stroking her neck and her shoulders falls lower. A exercise like this can be anything from a drill to a very intense scene or all of that in the same time. Ropes are being prepared, coiled in the tight coils that are recognizable, laid out in the right direction. Midori starts some kind of music from her I-pod. The sheet that we are sitting is evened out, moving disruptive stuff out of the way, including any stress or thoughts reminiscent from a completely exhausting and incredible weekend.But what ever there has been earlier, I let it slip away, as  one blindfold first is draped across her eyes, then looking one final time at the back of her neck as I blind myself. We are both blind now, her eyes as unseeing as mine. Left hand on her shoulder, right reaching for rope. Her shoulder; fitting perfectly in my hand, my hand; fitting perfectly around the coil of rope. A slight shudder from her part as the coils unravels, the distinct sound of rope falling to the floor, and no hands need to search from now on, the hands knows where to go and why. The first wrap of the TK feels like a starting point, a take off, in the second wrap, we start to melt into each other. Securing those two wraps become a paced dance, a slight interlude,hand on her shoulder to even out the pressure, then the cinches, locking it, she is breathing, moving, the ropes just fall into place. The two following ones are caressing, but not slow, they move in a pace of their own, and suddenly I breath out loudly, a stain of sweat in my forehead. It is like she is everywhere, in every strand and fibre of the rope, like the ropes has made us become so entangled with each other that there is no telling of who is who and what is what.  Uncoil the second rope with my teeth, even more fluff in the mouth. There is a deliberate pace in all of this, not perfect, probably syncopations rather than a steady beat. The locking of the second wrap a full stop, a semi-colon when evening out the wraps, pushing her into a break, pushing her into feeling the tightness of the rope around her. Hearing her breathing, a small gasp, warm skin, stroking the back of her neck again, tracing a strand over rope over her cheek, not knowing how it looks like, but feeling the effect.

We continue tying until we hear the crickets of undone. Then we continue. Then, at one point, we are asked to start finishing, to untie. For some reason, I think it is because the stress of the voice of those who need to prep the space for the closing ceremonies, I take off my blindfold. But I am still within that feeling, that entanglement that we have, a rush and buzzing in my knees. Naiia is quite far away as well, but know she needs to get back to her duties as a volunteer at some point. It is strange when the real world catches up with you. I start to untie, first slightly mechanically, but it is not possible to stay like that. The ropes continue to live, even as they are coming off. And now I can see it as well as feel it, her face, as the rope strokes the side of her cheek, how her mouth opens and closes as she gasps when one of the chestwraps is first taken off very slowly, then reapplied with more pressure. I have shifted my position now, sit straddled over her, and when leaning over to reach better over the back, the pulse in hear neck is hitting the side of my neck, steadily but quite hard.

As the last ropes are disappearing, the people working really wants us to start moving. We are not saying anything for some time, and we can’t move, we just sit. I find a glass of water for Naiia, do it on very shaky legs, then try to gather ourstuff, but it becomes almost impossible as my knees are so buzzing. In the end, we just shove everything into the sheet and carry it along, walking slowly down the corridor. We giggle, say a couple of words, drinking some more water,  just breathing, still just feeling.

So…What do you get out of it?

So…What do you get out of it?

I’m standing in a kitchen after a nice BBQ with fellow perverts. We are in a typical Swedish home, in a typical Swedish town. After the food had been eaten and digested, I had tied a friend up and then ministered some self-loving, otherwise known as self-suspension. It had been an interesting session, as I’m getting closer and closer to getting the Kinoko hip harness right, albeit still not succeeding in placing it correctly on my hip. But I went up, both once, twice and a third time, and somehow, my body decided that it should place it self up side down, me hanging in an unintentional inverted suspension. This is of course amazing and awesome, and afterwards, I was a giggling heap on the floor, high and happy as a kite, body warm and fuzzy and a pounding heart to go with it.

When we were packing up, a friend of the host comes up to me and almost confrontational asks me very bluntly “So.. what do you get out of it?”. I ask what she means, as I’m not really sure about how to answer this question, what does it actually entails?

“Like, the rope I saw you doing, what do you get out of it? Is it orgasmic?”

I probably laugh a bit inside, because the after effect of a good session can make you feel post-orgasmic in that lovely fuzzy, slightly lazy hazy way. I explain to her that it is not always sexual, but that the sensations of being tied can often be enough. She looks perplexed as if I’m saying something in a different language. I try to explain my practice as a way of communicating with someone else or myself, and that does not necessarily entail proper, wholesome penis in vagina intercourse. And I kind of feel like a sex-negative snob, but rope for me is not only the tool that will hold down my body or someone else so I can fuck them. Now, there is nothing wrong with that, it is something I take great enjoyment in doing (because it is bloody hot in every single way!).

But is about so much more; like muscles and movement, gasps, breathlessness and a cruel embrace. It is the look of a partners face as they become encased in so much rope they are only nominally human,  or the look of shame as one single strand of rope cause more embarressment and vulnerability than anything else. It is wandering, knowing hands, bodies moving together, or clashing against each other. It is about sounds, that creaking or rattling sounds of the rope, about sweating and working together with someone else or yourself.  It is about knowing yourself so well that it becomes easier to know others. It is knowing that nothing matters except for this exact moment in time. It is about the care of an organic and ageing  material that you hold dear; ropes that carries memories or sweet forgetfulness. Rope is about learning,not just patterns, not just repeating the same endless pattern over and over again, but learning about the pieces and the elements of each and every tie and what they do, how they act, what they become in your hands or on your body. It is not like regurgitating knowledge, it is about the knowledge becoming the second nature ; the trust in your self and what you can do. What your body can do.

It is the surprise of a fastpaced take-down, the focus of a strict hog tie, the movements of a dynamic suspension, or the sensuality of a long floor-session. It is the endless feeling of strength and vulnerability, openness and acceptance.

I did not really have time to say all of this, but tried to vocalise a condensed version, in which I focussed on the physicality of the practice and the intimacy that is possible through a rope-encounter. And in the end, the only response I got was  “Well, I like cock”, in which the understatement was so clearly about me making things too difficult. I like cock too, just that I like mine with rope .Simple as that.