Rope slut

People often talk about triggers for fetishes and I have one for my rope fetish which happened when I was about eight years old. I remember playing by myself in my grandmother’s backyard and I think it was cowboys and Indians because I’d also made a tepee by pegging towels all over my kiddie-sized hill’s hoist. So inevitably the cowboy captured the Indian and decided to tie the captive up with some horrible plastic covered rope I’d also found in the shed. I remember tying my ankles together and then passing the rope up between my knees to my neck and wrapping it around there before making some slip knots in the ends to put around my wrists.

It wasn’t very elegant and I distinctly remember pulling too tight and nearly choking myself, but it felt somehow ‘good’.

I wanted to take that piece of rope home with me when it was time to go, but I couldn’t figure out a way to sneak it into the car without anyone finding out, so I left it in the garden shed and from then on I used to spend an inordinate amount of time playing up the backyard behind the bushes.

From that little bit of rope I went to scarves and belts, pieces of wide elastic and it took me many years and several relationships before I finally got chains and cuffs and then that big momma of them all, shibari-style suspension.

While I was in Melbourne, M arranged for me to have a suspension experience at a bdsm club. I’d never had the chance before and my only experiences with shibari at all up until that point had been a little bit I’d taught myself and a couple of simple hojojutsu-style ties I’d been on the receiving end of courtesy of other people.

All in all I ended up being suspended twice at the club and again a couple of days later as a rope bunny at the advanced class for the Melbourne rope dojo. I also had the lovely experience of being trussed up in a…I don’t even know what to call it…hogtie of sorts? at a play party about a week later.

It was all…glorious.

I think I understand a little better about M and his boot fetish now. Now that I’ve had my rope itch scratched, I just want ALL THE ROPE!!! ALL THE TIME!!

The first suspension was a yoko tsuri like this one below except I had my lower leg straight and the upper leg was raised up and I wasn’t so close to the ground:

suspension

I was butt-naked in that crowded club and when my rigger spun me around, everyone in that place got an eye full of my hoohah. Strangely enough I wasn’t embarrassed or overly anxious and the only thing I was thinking about was keeping my back straight (that’s what I’d been told in the short briefing I’d had beforehand) so I just tried to lose myself in the moment and it was…relaxing. M said I had a blissful look on my face.

The second suspension of the night came after we’d had a bit of a session with M’s new paddle & crop. He worked my botty up to a nice shade of red while I was in a pair of stocks then it was time to be hauled off the ground again. This time for the suspension I was suspended vertically with ropes around the top of my knees and my arms behind in the usual takatekote. This position was actually quite stressful but also good in its own way.

After the suspensions were over my lovely rigger asked me if I’d like to come along to the advanced shibari class on the following Monday as his usual rope bunny was busy and couldn’t make it. I could barely contain my squeee!!s of joy and said I would be there with bells on.

The class was not what I was expecting at all and it was full off the famous rope-types in Melbourne. It consisted of each rigger and bunny ‘performing’ in front of the class and then getting critiqued by the other students and the sensei. There was a lot of focus on the rigger’s movements (economy of, fluidity, naturalness etc.) and the contact/energy between the rigger and the model as well as the aesthetics of the ties. It was both totally intimidating and fascinating to be a part of at the same time. So I had another suspension there which we were both complimented on and then there was a little practise of some hojojutsu (prisoner ties) and the two-hour class was over and done.

My final rope experience was back in Perth at a play party following a weekend-long rope workshop. I offered myself up as a bunny and got thoroughly trussed up ala this type of thing below and then I was summarily lowered to the floor, flipped over and hogtied as well!

shibari

Delish!

Unfortunately, I don’t have any pictures of my experiences. Cameras were not allowed in the club and there were no photos at the rope class (actually M couldn’t even come as spectators weren’t allowed…lol.)

I loved it all. Every minute of it. The riggers were wonderfully talented people and the equipment was all very safe and thoroughly tested. They always checked to make sure I was ok and there wasn’t a time I didn’t feel completely relaxed.

M knew how important losing my shibari suspension virginity was to me and he arranged it in the best possible way. I’m eternally grateful that it was such a positive and rewarding experience.

It still makes me smile thinking about it.

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3 thoughts on “Rope slut

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  1. I had a long bdsm relationship which I no longer have, and usually it’s a pleasant to mildly aching sort of missing I feel for that world. But when I read this it became a sharply tugging ache because the thing that I loved, beyond all the things that I loved, was rope suspension. We used to call it flying. We’d do it whenever possible, in private, and at play parties, and the feeling you describe is one I can remember so well – a sort of blissed-out freedom that I wished could go on forever (even with the slowly-numbing limbs and contorted positions). I doubt I’ll have that experience again, but I hope you do and I hope you continue to love it.

    1. Hi Pamela,
      Thanks for your recent comments. I understand that ‘mild ache’ you referred to…the pangs of play past? I think flying gave me a chance to be in the moment. Usually I’m distracted and thinking a million and one things, but the rope just seemed to drown all that extraneous stuff out.

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