Roped In

If it weren’t for bondage, I wouldn’t be here right now. I wouldn’t have this blog, I wouldn’t have explored my submissive side, I probably wouldn’t have realized I was kinky at all. I’d be blissfully unaware, living out my vanilla life with my husband. And, really, if we get down to the nitty gritty, if it weren’t for my ex husband’s passion for fishing, I wouldn’t be here right now.

He likes to fish small streams that work their way down from the mountains and nestle into the valleys, streams that are far from the worn trails frequented by the tourists that march like armies of ants through our woods nine months out of the year. Some of these streams are inaccessible without rappelling gear, they are so deep into crevices and tangled with twisted rhododendron branches. While doing some research on rappelling, he stumbled across a Shibari hip harness somewhere in the depths of the internet, and the seed was planted.

Weeks later, I found myself blindfolded and naked in our living room, receiving a now so familiar lecture. These are your safe words. I need your communication to be clear. Tell me if something feels off. At the time, I’d never heard this speech before. The words coming out of his mouth stirred something inside me, and I hung onto every syllable. I could taste the meaning of them, as if they floated towards me like a thick cloud of smoke, smelling of something sweet and ambiguous, something good.

He wrapped rope tightly around my chest, constricting my breath, making me feel as though I was being held in a firm hug. He gently lowered me to the coffee table and tied me to it, unable to move, with ankles and arms bound and a rope snuggled between my pussy lips right up against my throbbing clit. I writhed against the rope, testing it, feeling it tighten and pull against me as I moved. I could feel the vibrations of the rope against my skin as he pulled it, creating knots and tensions. They traveled all the way around my body, buzzing like electrical currents through a network of wires. The feeling of being so fully restrained and exposed was new to me, and it drove me wild.

While he played with his own power for the first time, the blindfold held me in my own little world. I floated in a haze, riding the undulating waves of pleasure as he held a vibrator against the rope, moving it from one body part to another, teasing me with touches and kisses and pinches. He kept me on the edge for an eternity, before finally moving the vibrator to my clit and allowing me to come. I screamed, a primal howl that came from deep within, a sound I’d never made before.

When I split up with him, I was worried that I would have to say goodbye to that part of my life forever. I thought I would never be able to practice rope again. I was so wrong. Closing the door on that relationship opened so many more, and I have made incredible connections with people who share my passion for rope.