Wanton Wednesday: “It’s Own Reward”

Posted in community, Wanton Wednesday on September 28, 2011 by Gray

Read all the Wank Wednesday erotic stories for Patience on Ruby Kiddell’s blog

Monsieur stopped her before she took off the coat. “Patience, mademoiselle.” He pulled it back up over her shoulders and straightened the lapels as she looked at him. Her pale blue eyes were slightly pleading, mostly incredulous, trying to convey the urgency of her need. I want to be naked. I want rope. Now.

He ignored the gaze, or perhaps didn’t notice it at all. She wasn’t sure which turned her on more; it was that intensity of focus that she found so attractive, and she fought to keep her long fingers from fidgeting with the short skirt that covered her leggings. He was behind her, now, and the jacket was sliding off, slowly, the fine wool tickling the skin of her back over the silken camisole. He deliberately folded the jacket and laid it on the dresser, then ran his fingers around her waistband, slowly searching for the zipper. The soft pressure of his fingers was maddening, and she began to point with her left hand to her hip. He slapped her wrist with a stinging reprimand and she dropped it back to her side. The pain filled her eyes with shamed tears and her pussy throbbed. 

“Patience,” he said again, in a voice filled with the same.

So it went, piece by piece, skirt, camisole, brassiere, garters, stocking and stockings, the latter removed inch by inch down each leg, his hands stroking without intent, his gaze intense on every inch of her pale skin as it was revealed. As he slid his fingers inside the back of her panties, levering them out and down over her ass, she watched his face. She knew he could feel the dampness there, the evidence of her arousal, as if the flush of her face, the rise and fall of her breasts or the crinkled skin of the erect nipples at the tip of each weren’t enough. 

He showed no reaction at all as he folded the panties, and she felt a stab of uncertainty. She didn’t want complications, but surely he got something out of this exchange, her body for his hands? Then he looked in her eyes, a wise, amused smile on his face, and she flushed again, realizing that he knew she’d been watching him, and that unlike her, his emotions and desires were his to show or not as he wished. That smile was full of pleasure at the sight of her naked and flushed before him, body aroused at tit and pussy and the tip of her clit peeking wetly from the shaven cleft. 

He chuckled, reaching up and patting her cheek, and she fought not to turn into that caress involuntarily, hungry for the touch of those strong hands. “Patience,” he had said, and patient she would be, half out of a desire to obey and half out of a desire to show him that it made no difference to her. A lie, to be sure, but it is of such things that she saw the self in the mirror she thought she wanted to see. Not the self that was here, watching him carefully unknot the rope, feeling the first strands stretch across her body. Slowly, so slowly, inch by inch uncoiling from the neat packages into a complex cage of lust and tension covering and exposing her at the same time. This knot pressed into her hip, with a delicious tangy pain that seemed to fog her mind, a clouded miasma that smelled of hemp and her desire and the masculinity of his presence, occasionally lit by pleasure flashes as a rope was drawn tighter, pulled rough across a nipple, the side of her neck, her inner thigh. The rope pulled her out of herself and into a different space, where she could let the hunger and desire rule her, because the rope – his rope- held them in check, and held the rest of her life at bay.

Twice she cried out as he tied her, once moving her body not away but toward the soft rope that brushed her labia, tantalizing, and once as his strong fingers pulled her hair, moving her head to the side with an inexorable control that approached brutality. Both times he acknowledged her need with that same word, a simple “Patience,” and somehow she found it, sinking deeper into the world of her body and the bindings that held her desperate need suspended and open before him.

Then he stopped tying, and she felt him move away. There was no fear- there was no room for fear in the stillness that her mind had become. It was not peace, though, it was a state of constant, helpless need, knowing he had what she wanted, knowing she was powerless to bring it any faster. She hung there in the ropes, eyes shut in a desperate static hunger that throbbed with every beat of her heart through the ropes that connected her cunt and her mind and her soul into a solitary massive want.

She felt him behind her. She felt his satisfaction even before the soft murmur of “Good, pet, good…” Her mouth opened in silent ecstasy as his fingers filled her, finally drove deep into her, and the waves of orgasm carried the want and need away in bright explosions that felt like they blew thru the top of her skull. There was no more thought, just pleasure as she basked in the reward of his attention and her hard-won patience.

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The Sweet Scene of No-Scene

Posted in writing on September 13, 2011 by Gray

“I’ve always been curious about what rope would feel like,” she said, “you know, with someone who knew what they were doing.” I accepted the implicit compliment with as much grace as I could, smiling in agreement.

She was dressed in a lovely green cocktail dress, shimmering various shades of emerald and offset by adorable purple calf-high boots that looked like they belonged in a London rainstorm. Her blond hair was in an elegant bun, but she had mastered the technique of using just enough makeup to make it look like she wasn’t wearing any. The quick intelligence in her smiling eyes as she talked to me was immensely appealing, with a mature confidence that tends to be a hallmark of the other successful writers at the party.

Before I could reply with the standard response (“I’m sure it’s not too hard to find someone knowledgeable in your area…“) she continued. “And, also, who I was attracted to. I’ve been tied up before by a friend who knew what he was doing, but there was no, well, spark there.” Her eyes flashed up to the right, remembering. “Instead there was just this moment of discomfort, of fear, when I realized that he really could do anything he wanted.” Her eyes returned to mine. “So I’ve really enjoyed watching you here,” she motioned towards Shar, the woman in the full-body rope corset standing nearby chatting merrily with friends. “Because I’ve always wondered what it would have been like if I had been attracted to him.”

Her gaze suddenly became very direct. “Because you, you I find attractive. I do want to fuck you.”

What does one say to such a statement at a cocktail party? When Dad was teaching me manners, this was not one of the subjects covered. I smiled, as that seemed appropriate, making sure it didn’t move into embarrassment or leering territory. A part of me rejoiced at the joy of being in such a sex-positive environment that such things could be said. A part of me admired the courage she had to be able to be a woman in this culture and admit her desires openly. A part of me, still about fourteen years old and crushing on these wondrous creatures we call “women” was triumphantly pumping a mental fist in the metaphorical air.

Before I had to distill an actual response out of this miasma of feeling, though, she continued. “But, I’m currently in a monogamous relationship, and so…well…we’ll just have to leave it at that.” The expression on her face was so bittersweet that it made me chuckle. There was such a tragicomic nobility to her inner conflict of desire with fidelity. Of course there was no doubt which side I would take in the struggle. I am, at heart, one of the “good guys”, or at least try to be, and Vegas or no I was not about to try and seduce this amazingly attractive woman who wanted to fuck me after I tied her up. Not a chance.

However, I’m not all that good, in spite of my best efforts. So while I chatted with her more, about the struggles of being a non-monogamous person in a monogamous relationship, I watched her suffering. It was a bit like watching a mirror slightly askew; I’d recently ended my own struggle with just such a relationship, and it was not a problem to commiserate.

I reinforced the righteous correctness of her self-restraint, telling her what a fortunate man he was. I quoted to her from Charlie Glickman’s recent column about marriage, where he’d championed the idea of putting the “sacred” back in marriage in it’s traditional meaning of “sacrifice.” This acceptance of the lust that was kindled by watching another body in the rope without acting on it was a tribute to both their relationship and to her strength and value as a lover, I told her.

I told her about friends of mine who have one of the most successful relationships I’ve ever heard of with only one rule: “Bring it home hot.” My suggestion that she would be doing the same by taking that sexual urge home to her lover was somewhat diluted by the fact that those friends, in particular, are also some of the most lecherous polyamorous sluts I’ve ever met (and he’s a better rope top than I am, in fact, a fact which made her eyes first widen and then narrow as her erotica-writer’s imagination ran with that thought).

At some point we both became aware that the tension, the desire, and the frustration was actually turning into something other than just a discussion. I was starting to enjoy her suffering, in fact, and it was feeding that sadistic part of me. It is a particular kind of sweetness to share a sexual attraction with someone and know that it is not going to be consummated.

I smiled and offered her a quote from Wendell Berry’s “the Wild Rose”, about choosing again what you’d chosen before, and she just grimaced. “Sweet, I’ve heard of it, but it doesn’t really help,” she grumbled, and we talking more about the difficulty in telling the difference between discipline and denial when self esteem is the battlefield. I knew it wouldn’t help. In fact, I knew that the more I engaged her in conversation, made her laugh, laughed with her, pointed out the nobility of her actions or lack thereof, the more she’d suffer.

And oh, how sweet that suffering was. At a certain point she was drawn off to another conversation, and she rather warily held her arms out for a hug. Her eyes held a strange resignation, the same look that I will see on a partner’s face as they offer up their nipple or ass or other body part to the next blow from paddle or hand or whip. It is the look of knowing that something is going to hurt, but knowing that passing up the sensation will hurt worse. No, not exactly hurt, but somehow make life less than it could be.

I hugged her, and of course it was electric. I felt the skin of her neck as it met her shoulder pressing against my cheek, and it would have been the easiest thing in the world to stretch into a soft kiss into the subtle aroma of clean and pure desire there. Her body was strong and warm and I could have pushed our bodies into more tangible manifestation of the intimacies our conversation had spun.

But I didn’t. And she knew I didn’t. And we both knew that by not doing it, we were gaining and losing at the same time, and the antinomy of the situation was like electric wine on our soul’s lips.

As our bodies parted, she had a far off look in her eyes and a wry smile on her lips. “Yeah,” she said softly. “It was there.” Her expression was somewhere between merry rue and mock resentment as I smiled at her. She knew I was enjoying her struggle, and like any good scene, she was also enjoying the fact that she was giving me that pleasure.

It was all either of us would get from each other.

Sweet.

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Answering Sex Out Loud

Posted in sex education, writing with tags , , on August 28, 2011 by Gray

Yes, that's demonstrating CBT using three balloons & a garbage bag. Worked wonderfully!

Recently I was honored to be invited back to the Bondage Capital of the World, Madison, WI to teach a workshop on kink to the Sex Out Loud staff. This is a group of peer-educators who make sex education their business, and damn if they aren’t an impressive bunch. They listened (and watched) me blather for three hours about everything from the neurochemical response to pain to how to tie a ball sack (using one of the most original props I’ve ever come up with).

As part of the class I stole a page from Susie Bright and invited people to write questions on paper that they were too embarrassed or simply didn’t want to voice out loud. When the time came to answer them I was running short during the presentation, and so I promised that I would answer them briefly there and more coherently here. So, for the benefit of the Sex Out Loud crew (and the rest of you), here’s the questions and my best answers. Feel free to chime in with your own views in the comments; I never claimed to be an authority.

  1. Fire Alarm. I’m not sure what this meant, but it was on a piece of paper. If anyone has a clue, please let me know.
  2. How should we approach bloodletting & other “edge” play with inexperienced college students? Veeeerrrrryyy carefully. Not that it’s necessarily more or less dangerous, there’s just a different set of risks – basically all the risks that we talk about when warning drug users not to share needles. Having information on non-sexual but relevant infections is also important, such as Staph and MRSA.

    However, the best thing to do is get live, hands-on training. Madison happens to be home to some of the finer piercers I know of, and going through the local Satyricon or Sabbat de Sade groups to find places to learn how to safely do it is a great start. MadTown Kinkfest also often has presenters come in who know their stuff, and that is, in my opinion, the best way to learn.

  3. It seems like you’ve described a lot of kinky relationships gone wrong…any concrete tips for keeping kinky relationships together? To be fair, I did describe several excellent kinky relationships I know of, but I also did describe some of the more common things that I’ve seen break up kinky relationships. Most of these can be broken down into the basic concepts of lack of clear communication and changing in directions that pulled them apart. Communication skills are an essential and often frustrating skill to develop; sometimes a person can actually be a communicator for a living (like me) and still have trouble making themselves clear. The only solution to that I know of is to keep talking, keep trying, and keep feeding back what you hear the other person saying until they agree that you have it right.

    Rinse, repeat, ad infinitum.

    In regards to the changing roles, I described happy and sad outcomes. One example was a couple who were identifying as Master and slave, and then found that they were more of a Daddy/girl pair. They both found their roles changing, and they were fortunate enough that the roles could change in complementary ways. Another example is a couple I know who are both dominant and both of whom get a lot of joy out of receiving service. They each have their own submissive, and the four of them make about as beautiful a kinky group as I’ve ever seen as they gracefully embrace who they are, allowing their needs to be met by others as well as their partner.

    “Concrete tips”, though…that’s hard. While I am pretty good at the practice of kink, and pretty good at helping people figure out what their kink is, I can’t really claim much expertise on the “keeping kinky relationships together” subject. I’d recommend books like “Opening Up” by Tristan Taormino as a start. Other than that, look for people who have managed to stay together, and see what they do. One group I know has stayed together because a core couple  made a commitment to be together, regardless – and everything else just kind of flows from there.

    Maybe the one concrete tip I can have is: don’t expect it to be easy. That way, if it is, you can be very pleasantly surprised.

  4. What would be the best way to start exploring one’s kinky side or kinky desires/fantasies? How would one go about trying their first scene? Whew, finally back on ground I feel solid on! The best way I can think of to explore your kink is first to look at the things that really arouse you – the things that, as I say in my Defining Moment class, “…get you hard, make you wet, make that lizard brain in the back of your skull go ooooh, yeah…” Sometimes that can be the hardest part – accepting that yes, this is what makes you horny, and this is what really fulfills your sexual nature. It takes courage to really admit that, sometimes.

    But once you do, you can begin to deconstruct it, figure out what elements are the things that really speak to you. You like Mad Men? Is it the power dynamic? The clothes? The hats? The music? Maybe it’s just the formica in the kitchen…whatever it is, write it down! Then you can figure out how to feed that particular kink.

    If it requires the help of someone else, you may be on good enough terms to just say “Hey, can I slap you like the whore slapped Don Draper?” If not, though, your best bet is to watch that episode together (beginning of Season 4, incidentally) and look over at your friend and say “Huh. That’s kind of hot, in a way. What do you think?” It’s a nice neutral way to both feel them out in terms of reaction and also let them know your thoughts are wandering there.

    You may be tempted to just jump in the sack and start trying it out. There’s nothing inherently wrong with that – the kink community’s dirty little secret is that with all the classes and training we offer, most of us tried this shit before we had a clue what we were doing. But if you can find some instruction on the subject – and there are lots of great places such as Kink Academy to do so – you can avoid some of the dumb mistakes the rest of us made. This especially goes for higher-risk activities such as rope bondage, humiliation play, or medical scenarios. It goes for low-risk activities, too; I know I wish that every woman who’d ever used a strapon with me had watched Savannah Sly’s How-To videos first. We could have avoided a lot of painful (ahem) learning curves…

  5. Other than Satyricon, what are some kink communities/events that interested UW students could check out, specifically in Madison? First of all, this is me shaking my finger at you, Satyricon! I was told that Sex Out Loud has been trying to contact your group via the email contacts that they have found online and there’ve been no responses. If you’re a community group, communitiate already!

    That being said, your best bet is to check out Fetlife in the Madison area and you’ll find groups like “Show Me the Ropes” and “SWIPE” and even the Madison Area Whippersnappers. Joining the discussion in these groups will connect you with the local munches such as First Friday or events like Sabbat de Sade, and that will get you involved. Keep in mind there is not a monolithic “WE ARE ALL KINK” group – like any subculture, there are groups, individuals, cliques, and a rich diversity of opinions to sample from as you develop your own kink identity.

  6. How would someone (a beginner) get into kink safely? Already answered!
  7. What would be some good ways to bring up kinky activities with an inexperienced partner? I answered this somewhat above, talking about the “watching movie” trick, but I think it’s worth addressing some other ways. One rather blatant and easy way is to hand them this book which might give them a clue.

    But the most important thing is how not to bring it up: having them come home to find you spreadeagled on the bed, and tell them “I’m yours, now, ravish me!” That’s fine after you both are well-versed in what ravish actually means to both of you. But while romance novels are full of this scenario working wonderfully (I know, I write them!) reality is far messier and far more complex. It’s better to take it slow, let it grow naturally between you two – and find out that reality is actually a helluva lot hotter than any bodice-ripper.

  8. What does BDSM stand for? Yes, this was a question, and I hung my head in shame; two and a half hours of teaching about kink and I hadn’t ever deconstructed the acronym! Grrr…bad presenter, no biscuit.

    B is for bondage. D is for discipline and also for dominance; S goes along with dominance as “submission”, but also pulls double duty by standing for sadism as well. The M is for masochism, and together they try to cover the spectrum of kink.

    But they don’t, really, which is why we use words like kink or other acronyms like WIITWD (“What It Is That We Do”) to cover the bases.

Those were the questions. How’d I do?

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Suspension Bondage is for Lazy Tops

Posted in art, NeatEvent, play, Rope Bondage, writing with tags , , , , , on July 1, 2011 by Gray

They say that the key to a good blog post is saying something controversial, hence the title. It’s not a joke, though; fair warning, what you read here may anger you. Either at me, at yourself, or at your top, depending.

The lovely Symetrie rigged by the author

At Shibaricon I was a bit busy. Which is kind of like saying Ms. Bachmann’s grasp on reality is “a bit” tenuous. I followed Mollena’s Admonition and was DAMN sure I was available for those playdates that I did schedule, and also did my best to be a good Poly Rope Top and made time for both my partner DoNotGoGently and my long-distance lover Naiia.

But it wasn’t easy. In fact, it was exhausting. I was also running classes, doing the cabaret, helping out as part of the staff…so by the time DNGG and I finally got to the designated time and space for our planned suspension scene, the dungeon was packed. I was tired. We wandered around, saw a lot of hot rope people doing hot rope things, but not one empty hard point. Ditto for the other playspaces – nary a hard point free.

Rope etiquette would dictate that we simply stage our bags near a scene that was going on, wait for it to finish, and take over the point. However, remember the “busy” part above? Remember the “exhausted”? Neither of us had the reserves to wait for a scene. More than that, the stresses of Shibaricon had taken their toll, emotionally, on the two of us. We needed a good scene with each other, and we needed it sooner than later.

Well, I’m one of those who’s always talking up floorwork, right? Talking about how suspension is fine, but overrated? So we dragged our gear back to the main dungeon, claimed some floor space with a sheet, and started some rope work.

Almost immediately when the ropes went on her, DNGG closed her eyes. She wasn’t going into “rope space” as it’s commonly understood, but it was obvious to me as I bound her tighter and tighter that this was going to be an internalized experience for her, a journey in which I would be a guide and guardian but not so much a participant.

That’s not a bad thing at all; it’s one of the many rich ways that rope can provide a great experience. So I continued to tie, to expose parts of her body, stimulate them with pinches and strokes and slaps and caresses. DNGG’s reactions are subtle but beautiful, and I was watching her closely, monitoring her state of mind and sensation as best I could in a busy, loud dungeon.

After a time, I began to take her out. I don’t know how long it was – maybe forty five minutes? There hadn’t been any obvious “WE ARE DONE NOW” signs, like mind-blowing orgasms or tears or even really any communication beyond body language. In fact, I wasn’t really sure that we should have been done at that time – it was simply my best guess at when both her energy and mine were at a level where we could come out of the scene gracefully. I wasn’t sure that I’d really given her a good path through the rope, or an adequate experience. I just had to trust that she would either forgive me if I hadn’t (that’s part of being in a relationship, after all) or let me know what she needed that was more.

As I took the ropes off of her, slowly, bit by bit, a strange thought occurred to me: Damn, I really wish we could have done that suspension instead.

It seemed like a strange thought. Why would I have rather done suspension? I’m not attached to the art, not even especially good at it (though I’m adequate enough when called upon). But there was no denying it: I wished, in that moment, that I could have done suspension instead of floorwork.

Why?

I thought about it a lot, and eventually realized: suspension is dynamically easy. It has a very clear path:

  1. Negotiation
  2. Physical evaluation of bottom
  3. Physical creation/evaluation of hard point
  4. Tying of harness to bottom
  5. Suspension
  6. Monitoring/transitional positions (sometimes several if you’re awesome like Lqqkout or Wykd Dave or Claire Adams)
  7. Safe lowering to floor.
  8. Removal of ropes/Aftercare

How do you know you did a good suspension? Easy: the bottom walks away with a smile. Hell, sometimes it’s just “the bottom walks away.” If they didn’t fall, it’s a success. Anything else – beauty, orgasms, appreciation from the audience – that’s all gravy. And frankly, even “rope space” is easy, because the stresses of the body being supported in a strange way within the ropes will trigger endorphins much more quickly than many other activities, and the feeling of having the ropes taken off/aftercare neurochemically transitions into oxytocin release giving that happy feeling of belonging, being cared for (in both top AND bottom).

In short: it’s an easy way to fix your jonesing for a rope scene.

Contrast that with a floorwork rope scene:

  1. Negotiation/evaluation of bottom (setting boundaries, basically, and maybe setting a tone: “pain”, “pleasure”, “beauty”)
  2. Tie some rope
  3. Do some stuff
  4. Repeat steps 2 and 3 for a while
  5. Untie the ropes
  6. Aftercare.

It’s not as clear a picture. And while yes, I can agree that “the bottom walking away with a smile” is still a good indication of a good scene, I would argue that the other “success” marker – the bottom walking away – is not there.

It’s harder to do a good scene on the floor, because you don’t have the obvious markers showing the way.

As I realized this, I thought about the way suspension is such a big thing in the rope scene. I thought about the way new rope tops focus on gaining suspension skills (new rope bottoms, too). And I frankly have come to the conclusion that at least some of the motivation is laziness. Why go to the trouble of delving into an unclear realm such as floorwork when you can put yourself in a situation where very clear steps and very clear paths are laid out to allow you to say “I did good”?

Before the flames start, please note that I am not saying that it is impossible to have a deep and meaningful suspension scene. The artistry of people like Osada Steve, Ageha, Arisue Go, Wykd Dave, Lqqkout, Kogure, Midori, and others who do suspension regularly is undeniable and I would be the first to say so.

But I’m suggesting that when doing suspension, we riggers and bottoms might want to ask “Why?” Are we taking the easy way out? Are we substituting physics for connection, simply because it’s easier?

Or is it just me?


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the Seattle GRUE is a GO!

Posted in NeatEvent on June 29, 2011 by Gray

Graydancer’s Ropetastic Unconference Extravaganza

A GRUE is an un-conference – a gathering that is participant driven and self-organizing. Rather than impose an outside agenda on the attendees, the schedule is generated through a fast-moving group exercise facilitated by Gray. The group creates a day filled with a variety of subjects, some of which deal with rope and some of which stretch far beyond. Gender theory? Power dynamics? Scene design? STD awareness? Kinky spirituality? Cyber-security for perverts? All of these and many more have been covered in past GRUEs.

The one thing that every topic has in common – whether presentations, discussions, hands-on skillshares or laughing explorations into new territory- is passion. Everything that happens at a GRUE is something that an attendee is passionate about. The day is filled with energy, open exploration, unexpected connections, realizations, and discoveries. Like a structured contact improv dance, working within a proven framework every GRUE is different, beautiful, and unique to the needs and abilities of the people there.

Be prepared to be surprised. As over two dozen other GRUEs in the U.S. and Canada have proven, the unconference and kink go hand in hand to create something amazing.

The Seattle GRUE will be donating a portion of the profits of this event to the National Coalition for Sexual Freedom and another portion to support independent sex-positive community educators.

Cost: $80

Schedule:
Friday August 19th, 7-10pm or so: Meet-and-Greet. Location TBA

Saturday August 20th, 9:30am-6pm: GRUE! at the CSPC, Main Space. ( Lunch is provided on site.)

Saturday Night, 9pm-2am: 2 Play Parties at CSPC, included in GRUE price. (Non-members must fill out consent forms.)

Sunday Morning: 10am-whenever: GRUE pancake brunch at the CSPC, Annex.

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Why is it…

Posted in community on May 11, 2011 by Gray

Why is it that when I ask for a pair of hands, a brain comes attached? – Henry Ford, as quoted in The Personal MBA

Ran across this quote this morning, and my brain automatically started going through permutations that ranged from the silly to the scandalous to the profound.

  • Why is it that when I ask for a pair of tits, a brain comes attached?
  • Why is it that when I ask for a pair of hands, a cock comes attached?
  • Why is it that when I ask for a cock, a dick comes attached?
  • Why is it that when I ask for polyamory, a metamour comes attached?
  • Why is it that when I ask for monogamy, compromise comes attached?
  • Why is it that when I ask for a (poly or mono) relationship, difficult conversations come attached?
  • Why is it that when I ask for a decision, a consequence comes attached?
  • Why is it that when I ask for an experience, a memory comes attached?

Got any more? I’m going to put it out to the twitterverse under a #whyisit tag. And please, these will, by their nature, stereotypical and politically incorrect. Be clever: refute their argument with your own “why is it?”

If you can’t think of one that refutes it…well, maybe you’ve learned something.

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Fear of Commitment

Posted in cool people, family, writing on May 5, 2011 by Gray

This is going to be an unusually personal post for me, and only tangentially has to do with rope and kink, so feel free to skip it and go on to something more sexy.

Lee Harrington has this habit of changing people’s lives. Maybe you already knew that, having taken his classes, heard his sermon on Living Leather, read his books or something like that. If you’ve read my essay in Ropes, Bondage and Power you know that it was a scene with Lee that took me past a plateau of rope and sadism and into a much darker, scarier, fulfilling and wonderful world. It was a casual lunch with Lee where he said “Gray, you really ought to create an event with your name on it,” and so the GRUE was born.

See what I mean? Lee Harrington is dangerous.

And if he’s that dangerous to other people’s lives, inspiring change and forcing growth with a casual sentence, can you imagine how he is in his own life? I don’t think I know anyone else who is more powerful in shaping their world to fit their calling, in doing the work necessary to force reality to be more the way it should be, as opposed to the way it is.

I got to see and be a part of a little of that during the Dark Odyssey WinterFire Cabaret Social fund raiser. That’s where he presented Aiden Fyre with their earned leather, a fantastically beautiful custom-made chest harness similar to Spartacus. It was beautiful, violent, powerful, and as he led them off to a pre-planned gang bang I felt the way I would feel watching a friend skydive or jump off the high diving board doing a half-twist pike triple somersault and nail it.

Namely, Damn, that’s impressive, followed by wow, I sure wouldn’t try that.

Not that I don’t want to, you understand. Kind of like the way I longingly stroll through the furniture section of Office Max and read Organizational Porn, dreaming of a world where my files are neatly alphabetized and my desk chair solid and comfortable in front of my dual 36″ monitors, I also attend MAST meetings and classes on protocol and read the polyamory sections of FetLife. It’s a fantasy, a desire that remains just that.

Why? you may ask. Surely you have people willing to serve, wanting to be involved. Yes, that’s true. I’ve been blessed with relationships with some absolutely incredible poly and submissive people. That’s not the difficulty; it’s not them, it’s me.

It’s a fear of commitment. Not for the typical reason (If I commit, I’ll give up XYZ). No, the opportunity cost doesn’t bother me. It’s actually the fear of commitment broken. To make a long story short, having seen the biggest commitment of my life suddenly disappear, after working as hard as I could to preserve it for years, I am loathe to put forth that effort again.

That’s Commitment, of course. Big C. The kind of thing that Lee and Aiden did last weekend at Beltane in Ramblewood, where I had hoped to attend, but was unable to due to unforeseen roadblocks. I wish I could have, because I love Lee, and I wanted to be there for him, but at the same time I’m a bit glad I didn’t.

The weekend before I had taken a short trip to the Bondage Capital of the World, Madison WI, to finalize the divorce that was the final nail in the coffin of that Big Commitment I’d tried more than a decade ago. It didn’t hurt as much as I expected (in fact, it’s a bit amusing; in an amicable divorce hearing, the words you say most often are “I do.“). But it reinforced something that has been the case for a while now: a reluctance to take the long view.

What will your life look like in 10 years? I can’t answer that question. Even when faced with the usual follow up, What do you want it to look like? I really can’t answer it. Ditto for five years, and while I’m a little more clear on one year from now, it’s mainly because I’ve already agreed to do some events in 2012.

Thing is, I really don’t have a good excuse. Lee’s gone through much more shit than me, and probably been through more relationships. Yet there he was, committing to moving across the country and starting an entire life with Aiden. I think it was Heinlein who talked about how courage is not facing the unknown, it’s facing the possibility – even the likelihood – of getting hurt and doing it anyway, because it’s the right thing to do.

Lee’s one of the bravest men I know.

But you know, we all have our own paths to tread. When I say “more shit” it’s of course relative, and there’s no real way to measure experiences against each other. And while I may not be able to make big-C Commitments right now, I’m working my way up. Commitment, like anything else, is more about habit than anything else. It’s not deciding to show up one day; it’s showing up day after day after day.

So I commit to studying every morning. I commit to working out with my partner DNGG. I commit when I pull out my rope and start to tie that I am going to follow through from the first laying on of strands through the final hugging “thank you“. I commit when I sit on the couch and watch an episode of Prison Break from beginning to end, not letting my workaholic ADD nature check on twitter or email. I commit when I open up WordPress and decide to write a post celebrating commitment, both big-C like Lee & Ayden’s and little-c like buying an iPad 2.

Thanks to a conversation I had with Mollena, I commit when I say I’ll have a play date with someone. One way or another I will show the fuck up, even if it’s only to tell you that my hand is injured but by the way, there’s this world-class rigger standing behind you who is willing to take one for the team and tie up your gorgeous and amazing willing and supple body (you owe me, buddy). What’s really funny is that since I’ve adopted that particular commitment, several time it’s been the bottom who doesn’t show up.

That’s ok. There is solace in knowing that it wasn’t me. I held up my end of the deal, and that reflects well on my self-image regardless. Every little commitment kept, or even the ones that are let go with full knowledge and understanding of the necessity, reduces that fear of commitment. Reduces the fear that it’s not worth trying.

Eventually I’ll learn to accept that about the big-C stuff, too, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll be as brave as Lee.

Congratulations, Lee & Ayden. I am proud to be your friend and wish you both the best on your journey.

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Dude, Where’s my Rope?

Posted in cool people, NeatEvent, Rope Bondage with tags , , , , on May 4, 2011 by Gray

Are you excited about Shibaricon? Me, too. But especially if this is your first time coming, and you’re coming from far away, you may be wondering: how can I get my rope to Shibaricon?

As someone who travels regularly with rope and other toys, I can tell you my personal secret: Pay the damn fees. Yeah, it’s ridiculous, but while I’ve accumulated a nice collection of TSA inspection forms, I’ve never had anything – from basic Twisted Monk rope to high-end MauiKink exotic wood paddles – get taken. I’ve heard various other horror stories (including one from Midori who had all kinds of stuff taken) but my own experience is that if you just fork over the cash, I don’t worry.

I’ve tried other methods, including one that is often recommended by others on discussions like this one on Fetlife to mail the packages, but I’ve found that there’s an element of risk in relying on others to mail or hold your packages. I’ve still got a lot of my rope sitting in the back of someone’s car in San Francisco because they haven’t found the time to mail it to me, and SherynB mentions that “almost all large hotels charge substantial receiving and holding fees, and I’d be surprised if the Hyatt was an exception. It’s been a few years, since I did hotel conferences, but my guess would be $20-25 a box, or more, based on weight. So if you’re going to do it, call first so you know what to expect.”

Which looks more dangerous to you?

This year I have the advantage that my partner is driving in from the Bondage Burgh, and so my gear bag will just be thrown in the back of her car.

If you do decide to brave the TSA and carry on your rope (It’s for climbing! Honest!) just remember they are arbitrary, fickle, and logic will not work. CherriesJubalie and Lqqkout had the interesting experience of traveling to the same event – Beyond Leather – and while TSA was fine with Lqqkout’s five-foot heavy-steel chain in his carry-on, they insisted that Cherry remove her nipple piercings in order to go through the metal detector (note: Cherry has investigated and found that this is NOT TSA policy, so if you are asked to do this and you don’t want to, know that you can insist on a “visual screening” instead of removing them).

In short, if you’re bringing gear, pay the damn fees. It’s the safest way to transport them.

What’s your plan for getting your gear to Shibaricon?

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Subclavian Massage Technique Works!

Posted in community, cool people, play, Rope Bondage, ropecast on May 2, 2011 by Gray

This just in: it works!

Gray,

Thanks for sharing Voron’s massage technique for the box tie.  I was happily suspending a lovely naked woman, last night.  She, foolishly, ignored tingling in he left hand until it was “asleep”.  I applied the massage and she had feeling back, right away!  I took her down and out of the ropes and continued the massage.  Her hand felt “normal” within a minute.

My “rope god” status was elevated by the 3 young, beautiful women in my living room.  All of who, went home to fuck their ropeless boyfriends, not me.  Oh well, I guess I shouldn’t have played down the whole “rope god” thing.

Thanks for all the info you share.  Your podcast riches the rope community.

This email from Kale is referring to the video below (if you missed it the first time). There actually are a couple of more techniques coming down the pipe…I was trying to be all sneaky and release them first on Fetlife to encourage people to support that site but I think I’ll just be putting them out there as part of the Ropecast.

Anyone else try it out and have it work?

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Save Wicked Grounds & Get a GRUE Lifetime Pass!

Posted in community, cool people, proporn, sex education with tags , on April 18, 2011 by Gray

Many people have heard of the little piece of heaven in San Francisco that is Wicked Grounds. It’s a bit of a pilgrimage, a kind of kinky Mecca that those who do what we do can go and sit and breathe and feel like we can actually be ourselves, in all our perversity, without worrying if the owners and other patrons will take offense. Even if you never go there, *knowing* that such a place exists makes the world a bit of a better place, in my opinion.

However, turns out it’s expensive to run a café in San Francisco (Who knew?). You can click here for the backstory, or just go right to the donation page…but first, let me engage in a little of my dream of being a Kinky Willy Wonka.

I have commissioned the creation of:

Five THREE GRUEden Tickets

These will be actual golden tickets with your name on them in fancy (like, papyrus or maybe even Herculanum) lettering and will be a free pass to any GRUE.

Admission only, mind you. Ya gotta get there yerself, find a roof for your head, and feed yourself a bit. But as far as cost of admission? This GRUEden ticket will get you in ANY GRUE, ANYWHERE in the world. Seattle? St. Louis? Amsterdam? Berlin? London? Connecticut? Vancouver? Yup, you’re in.

And you’re extra cool, because there are only five of them only three of them left. First pledged, first served.

I tried to arrange to have them hidden in the thighs of willing and supple rope bottoms throughout the world, but wiser minds convinced me that it might be better to tie it in to the efforts to save my favorite place, Wicked Grounds. So here’s the deal:

If you pledge (and this needs to be a REAL pledge, mind you) $500 to Wicked Grounds, you can have a GRUEden Ticket. Just do like Pete (a recent attendee at the GRUE Pitt) did, and note on your donation: *This is for a GRUEden Ticket*.

Did you catch that? He already got one, minutes after I announced it at the GRUE Pitt.

Which means there are only four three left.

(Tori Storii bought one too.)

Wait a minute, Graydancer, you ask, What guarantee do I have that there will be enough GRUEs in the future to cover the cost of the GRUEden Ticket?

None. There are eight GRUEs definitely planned thru 2012, and another half-dozen in the works, but there is no guarantee that even if you went to all of the rest of the GRUEs, you would make back your investment.

In fact, it’s almost like we’re actually focusing more on helping out our kinky community rather than just trying to get commercial value for a buck! I never was a very good capitalist.

Note that the way the pledge works is much like Kickstarter.com: Wicked Grounds needs to get $50,000 in pledges before your pledge would actually be called due. So there is a chance that you could pledge the $500 and never be called on to cough it up. Guess what? Even if that happens (*personally, I’d plan on paying it; as of this writing, they are about halfway there*) your GRUEden Ticket will be honored.

See what I mean? Lousy capitalist.

If you have more questions, then you’re probably making it too complicated. It’s simple:

  • Go here.
  • Pledge $500 that you have every intention of paying towards the preservation of Wicked Grounds.
  • Make a note on the page: This is for a GRUEden Ticket. We will get it to you before the next GRUE, in Seattle in August.

That’s it. And if GRUEs aren’t your thing, I believe Shibaricon and other events are going to be offering special deals as well.

Save Wicked Grounds.

It’s the café we wish we had next door.

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