WTF Wednesday: Rope Bondage
There are 47 reasons, on any given day, why kinky stuff gets my jeebies heebied.
One of the things I can enjoy, regardless of my emotional connection to my play partner, is rope bondage.
There are many aspects of kink that are intensely personal for me, things that get right into my head and places that remain locked away.
Not everyone gets to go there.
Hell, I don’t even go there most days.
Too dark and clammy.
But there are some types of play that I can enjoy purely on a physical level. So long as the top to whom I am bottoming is highly capable, and I am assured of their skill, I can “go there” and enjoy the ride.
Rope bondage is one of those play-styles
The loss of control over parts of your body is pretty intoxicating…the idea that your movement itself, the one thing since birth that you struggle to achieve and maintain, is now in the hands of someone else…that is something dangerous. Excitingly so.
It occurs to me that the secret wormhole I find when doing bondage is not just the loss of control: it is the deeper sense that every segment of rope is touched and energized by the person applying the bondage. That focused intent, that specificity, can elevate the inanimate rope to its own heightened state. It is as though every section of rope is imbued with, and carries the energy and control and caress of the one who is in control of it.
As the bondage becomes more binding or more complex, it is as though you are held in a physical manifestation of the thoughts of the person slowly taking from you the control of your limbs, skin, body…rope bondage can get to the point where even your breathing is restricted by the rope top. Imagine if every caress you felt while making love lasted and abraded and caressed and marked your skin in an after-shock of taut tension and sensation.
It is an echo that intensifies instead of fading.
It is a restriction that frees you to struggle and relinquish your control.
And if you add to that the many textures of rope, it is even more engaging. Slack silk ropes, slick serpentine nylon, earthy heady hemp, scritchy jute, stiff cotton. All of these have their own notes in the symphony of surrender. Simple, elusive, complex, difficult, joyous, terrifying, soft, brutal, beautiful.
Have something about kink that you’d like me to cover on a future WTF Wednesday? Contact me!
I love to watch how intent my lover gets as he wraps rope around my wrists or ankles. The anticipation that is built while he perfects his work makes me insanely wet. Knowing that when he’s done, I won’t be able to struggle, will just have to submit and take what he gives me, creates an electrifying tension that makes my entire body tingle.
Yes, I love rope..mmm, I do.
I do believe you may have some…err….empirical data backing up your delightfully illuminating post there, Ms. Tess!
Well maybe just a bit. I think I need to do some more “research” in order to test the veracity of my results though. Where is that damn V when I need him?