Tangled in rope



I love rope. This has been the case almost from the beginning of my entry into the wonderful world of BDSM. I’ve attended many rope dojos, debated over the merits of hemp vs nylon vs silk with many a practitioner, strung up willing bodies more times than I can count and have offered myself up as well. All this in the pursuit of getting to know my chosen medium as well as I can. However, as with any practice, there is always more to learn.

Bondage has been coming up in my thoughts a great deal lately. Time allowing, here are rope shares and tying intensives I’d like to attend, experiments in hemp treatment and conditioning I’m preparing to embark on, bodies I imagine in the rope hanging suspended. However, the question keeps arising, why do I tie? What is it that I am trying to achieve when I have a pile of rope and a pliant body? Is it bondage purely for the sake of ornamentation? The pleasure I take in restricting another’s movement, controlling their position?

There is always some kind of immobilization I require of my submissives and play partners. It could be mental or physical or both. On occasion, I will feel amusement simply ordering my bottom to hold a given position while I test their determination to follow instruction. However, it is more satisfying for me to KNOW that they cannot move. Rope layered on rope layered on skin, holding them quite literally in thrall to my whim.

As a present to me, my pet has become quite adept at preparing hemp rope. Just running the newly treated lengths through my fingers, feeling the soft heavy slightly oily texture coil and uncoil around my fingers, imagination starts to run. I see myself standing in , my favorite room at Parthenon, subject at my feet…

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