Note: This is not only an awesome post, but by sending it Ganymancer also qualifies for the Twisted Monk Ropecast Giveaway! Also, note the updated links to upcoming events! Hope to see you at the Cleveland GRUE!
You asked in your ropecast, so I thought I’d write in telling you what I get out of rope…
When I’m suspended in rope, I am able to be entirely present in the moment. It’s not like that the entire time, to be sure – my insecurities pop up, I hear the sounds of people around me, I see people around me, I wonder what they’re thinking of me, I hear a laugh and maybe wonder if they’re laughing at me – but for most of the time, I’m in the moment. I’m not thinking about work, about how my ex did me wrong, about things I should have said or shouldn’t have said… When I’m flying, these worries are off my mind.
I’m in my body. A wealth of sensations are available to me. Beyond the rope itself, beyond the pressure and the texture, I feel weight borne by my body in ways it usually isn’t, unfamiliar motion, and those limbs which aren’t entirely fixed have limitations on their range of motion. The limbs that are completely bound have their own sensations, which I can change and play with. And as I spin I can experience vertigo and dizziness and disorientation, and completely change my experience by lowering or raising or turning my head.
It also gives me a unique opportunity to practice the disciplines of my body – flexing or relaxing muscles, or intentionally increasing or decreasing circulation to some part of my body; breathing with different parts of my lungs; finding different ways to bear or distribute my weight in an entirely new context; channeling the pain or discomfort I feel, not unlike receiving a flogging but without breaks, without pause…
And sometimes, rope is a hug that will not relent. It is carefully applied attention. It is affection that continues, moves with me, and spreads as more rope is added. As my whole body, from the hair on my head, down my chest, around my hips and my legs, and even my toes, all are bound, my skin is constantly telling me about all of that attention I have received. And then the manhandling starts.
And all that’s just from this past weekend… =] It’s been on my mind.
When I put rope on others, it’s more complicated for me. I find it less physical, more mental, emotional, social. When I make someone unable to move, thoroughly vulnerable, I get a rush of power and responsibility. Usually when I top in any form it involves being in a caretaker role, but with secure bondage it immediately starts involving even the most trivial of responsibilities. Whether on the scale of scratching an itch or the scale of moving to a better (or worse) position, the power exchange moves immediately from “I could conceivably fight you off at any moment” to “if I changed my mind there is nothing I could do without your help.”
And that’s not even to mention how the changes which rope causes in the bottom influence me… if I’m doing something to a partner which clearly turns them on, that gets me going too. So, horny rope bottoms make it better.
But much of what I’ve said here could be said about bondage other than rope… I guess the three big differences for me are: first, when looking at a rope one can’t tell what will happen next. Second, the application of it requires attention and knowledge beyond “wrist goes in, velcro closes” so it feels more intentional, more of an act of creation than the use of a specialized tool. Third, the process of putting it on, whether it takes only a few moments or a long time, feels like a journey – I guess I’d make a parallel to the difference between flying for an hour vs walking four hours; even if I haven’t traveled as far, I feel like I’ve actually gone somewhere different. It’s liminal.
Thanks for binding me and making me fly.
P.S. Happy Birthday Ropecast!
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