*Taken from notes I wrote on a phone, I am leaving this unedited. I believe this was when my ex husband and I were practicing rope with some of our closest friends, and he wanted to see if he could rig a predicament bondage with a suspension and Doxy wand, where I could put down my foot to take away some pain of the suspension but it would cost me.
**I wrote this August 2015, half a year before we divorced.
You’re really sexy babe he said as he tied my legs to the pole, knees bent on the floor, thighs parted.
It was a reassurance in the midst of my shyness, of my uncertainly in a room full of people watching, spread in such a manner in just my underwear, a thin sliver of pretended modesty. He whispered it before he bent me over, exposing me more, so vulnerable feeling except his words of praise, of proudness, of appreciation of the trust I placed in him, bent me over until my face hovered inches above the ground, the chest harness of rope wrapped tightly around my beating heart stopping my face from hiding, showing my body bent, never a flattering angle for a stomach and mine especially felt awkward hanging curled in such an angle. Yet his eyes never left my mother’s hips, my muscular thighs, my rear end invitingly titling up with such ease of access, the small of my back.
He saw beautiful and I felt the warm glow of approval.
I saw one of my friends when I went to the swingers club. He was performing with rope and whips. Once his performance was done, he hugged me and it was a long and comforting hug that let me know he heard about my sister.
We talked about how we were going to see each other at a party the next day. “Will you tie me? I need the release.”
He looked down at me still within his arms, his understanding eyes apparent even through all his makeup. “I know you do. Perhaps. You aren’t allowed to drink tomorrow then,” nodding towards the wine I had been drinking.
“I know, I won’t.” Tomorrow’s event was a dry party, had always been at the venue we were going to. Almost all the events don’t allow alcohol around these parts, as people feel strongly that alcohol and many play styles shouldn’t mix. I had no plans to drink alcohol even before the event as I was driving.
So after one night with so many wonderful friends, the following night (after dealing with family things, then sorting and cleaning my sister’s things) I went to another group of wonderful friends. Have I mentioned that I am so grateful for such an amazing group of people? I needed this support system that I am not getting in my new town. I know so many people that there is never a lack of company do I decide to reach out and ask.
This venue is far more family feeling. They’re very close knit, and the Thanksgiving dinner that they do every year is so large, with so much food carefully coordinated by the dungeon mom – yes even holidays are celebrated family style (minus kids, so a weekend before the actual holiday followed by adults playing). After announcements and a costume judging (they allowed me to come out of costume), my friend asked if I was ready to do rope.
So we went to the suspension structure and I stripped down to my underwear as he prepared the music. “What kind of a thing do you want?”
“Hurty rope,” I told him. He doesn’t scene with me for some reason, and he rarely even ties me, but he’s skilled and a sadist and I was hoping to escape in pain so much that I would cry, that I would release the overwhelming tension and surrender it all from my body.
He is skilled, and the rope did hurt, but after transitions and truly painful suspension ties, I was out of the rope before I felt the pain enough to embrace it.
I was still grateful for his time.
Down, we mingled amongst others and I watched a few scenes. A rope person and I were discussing how rope never lasts long enough and my friend said, “oh really?” with that devilish gleam that he gets and soon he offered to tie again.
I just took off my jeans this time and it appeared that we were going to do floor work. The music was excellent and he was bobbing in time. I had a chest harness with wrists tied behind my back. He put a knee behind my knee and force-lowered me to the floor. He strung up an ankle to the hard point above me and pressed the sole of his shoe on my thigh still laying on the floor. I liked the pressure, I liked the exposed-vulnerable feeling of having one leg up useless for protection. He then picked me up from the chest harness and my breath strained with the sudden pressure, immediately I adjusted and it hurt but felt wonderful. He set me down and picked me up a few more times.
Did I mention the music was awesome? It’s amazing how music can create a scene, and in this case I feel it did. Next thing I knew I was being strung up and fully suspended with legs adjusted from time to time to a more painful position than the last. I was blindfolded and it was then used to pull my head back, in which he arched my back to tie the blindfold into an ankle. That was a tight tie, it didn’t allow any forgiveness or releasing of tension. It was very uncomfortable but sustainable, and I wished that I had been in it longer. He spun me around in that position, his hand brushing over my blindfold, my upturned chin, my tensely pulled back neck, my chest. He checked on me and I expressed I was okay.
And then I came out. The whole experience had amazing energy and I felt a connection to him whereas he normally won’t tie to where I can feel a connection. But it was too short, or perhaps I needed too much, to find the space in which I released my emotions and surrendered them up.
Still, he managed a huge feat as I left that night incredibly happy. I am so very grateful to have such supportive, gracious, and even skilled friends. I will miss them when I return back to my town, and since my sister is no longer around, I don’t know if I will return to see them.
That in itself is a different kind of goodbye that I just can’t contemplate right now.
I mentioned that I dyed my hair purple, and that my husband and I were on and off again. Here is a time we were gloriously together in a purple dungeon room, which went fantastically with my hair.
There has been a lot of change in my life recently – heart-breakingly separated from my husband, a new town, new friends, a new kink community and new rope partners who treat me like I know nothing.
But thank goodness for my old friends who continue to support me. It’s one of the reasons why I go back so often to my old town and visit, they are looking after me in the most endearing of ways.
Here is a friend and I on one such visit – a beautiful and kinky way to support me.
*This was written March of last year. It is posted unedited and one of my most cherished memories of my ex and I in public with rope. It’s amazing how different a year is – how tragically sad in this case.
We sat in a corner and waited
impatiently patiently for the suspension point. I had already been suspended by someone else with another female who approached me, a strenuous dual suspension that left my body achy and sweaty.
You wanted to practice another strenuous tie, I wanted an actual scene and not to practice something that may hurt me further. You tried, my body couldn’t take it, and we both felt a bit frustrated.
You wanted to try something else again; I wanted to make you happy, and so we waited in a dark corner, you holding me in front of you, as we watched the activity in the dungeon.
You put your lips to my neck and kissed softly. Your arm went around my neck and you applied pressure, still nuzzling the side of my neck, and I heard a click.
I smiled. You knew I recognized the sound, whispered in my ear as much. And then the arm tightened and pulled my head back and to the side, and the cold steel of the knife blade slid across the side of my exposed neck where your lips once were.
Alternating between choking and knife play on my neck, my nipples, and the inside of my thighs. You kissed me, opened my mouth with your fingers, replaced with tongue.
The tip of the blade scratched, I was a little concerned you drew blood a time or two, and the flat of the blade so cold as it caressed and stroked.
Chest harness, rope around throat. I needed to cum and you knew that. You discreetly slipped a small vibrator inside and gripped my throat, leaning down and whispering to cum. I obeyed.
You grabbed me and twisted me to an uncomfortable position around you, positioning your leg between my thighs and applying a lot of pressure. Between the pressure and the vibrator you told me to cum again, and I wasn’t sure if I could be discreet in our little corner again, and yet my body listened once more.
And again, with the addition of pinching my nipples and yet again. By that point I no longer cared if I was discreet.
You removed the vibrator, sat me up, and sat between my legs. You tied my ankles and strung rope behind my neck to hold them up, and began slapping on my lips. I couldn’t move to protect myself.
And when the rope allowed my ankles down, you tied first one thigh and then another, taking time to slide the knife up and down from time to time as you tied.
You had set me up for a suspension – I was unaware. I was unaware we were in a corner, unaware there were others who could view us.
I was only aware of you and what you did to me.