How I Accidentally Became a Rope Top

Look. None of this was planned, okay.

Last February (has it only been since then? It feels like years) I finally had the whole ‘Yer a submissive, Harry. I mean, Paige!’ realisation and started reading and writing about power exchange and was happy with knowing there were other people like me.

I’ve never been a social person and didn’t intend to become one. Being around more than one person for more than a couple hours leaves me needing a nap. It’s too much faff. I’d just read and write my personal essays and continue relating to the world through my computer, just as I had before I got my letter from Hogwarts, I mean, the Armory. (That’s where the kinky letters come from, right?)

Note the flags. (source)

Note the flags. (source)

But then it turned out there was a kinky group in my area… I could talk to people like me. In the same room.

Which was so weird of a proposition I just had to try it.

Talking, though. To strangers… Small talk is not something I do well.

Then someone hosted a kinky crafting event and we made blindfolds/sleep masks and that was quite fun. Having something to focus on helped because I knew if I was at a loss for words I could focus on mangling my sleep mask.

A few months passed (due to personal stuff that’s boring and had nothing to do with kink) and I didn’t go to anything, but I knew that I could indeed have a conversation with new people with vomiting or eating my own face.

So once everything was settled from boring personal things and suchlike I thought, ‘I have this new corset. I’m never going to get to wear it anywhere fun unless I get vetted.’

So off I trotted to a munch, which was a great time. Everyone was very nice and I had a blast. Though I did go home and crash like an introvert who’d just been social.

Then, a couple weeks later I checked to see what events were coming up, figuring it would be films or coffee, and there was a Rope Bite event in my area—most of those sorts of things happen some place that’s a 45 minute drive away.

I’ve never had an interest in being tied or tying anyone, but I do think shibari is beautiful to look it. I’ve always seen it as art.

Lady Caribou tied by Bodhi photographed by Ma’iitsoh Yazhi (source)

Pictured: Art. Lady Caribou tied by Bodhi photographed by Ma’iitsoh Yazhi (source)

So I thought, ‘Okay, I’ll go look at how the art is made and hang out with some kinky people without having to drive an hour and a half.’

The workshop was taught by Bodhi, who has a website called RopeSpace. He makes his own rope. Speaking of, at the start, they passed out thirty foot lengths of rope to everyone there and I said, ‘Oh, I’m just here to watch.’ The person passing out the rope said, ‘Well, just in case.’

Just in case indeed.

I don’t think it was sixty seconds before I’d uncoiled my bit of rope and was tying Walter’s hands. Walter is my husband who, when I described him as being vanilla said, ‘I don’t think I have a flavour. Like water.’

Guess who liked being tied, though.

Look what I did!

Look what I did!

He liked the pressure of the rope, saying it felt like a hug. Little hugs on his wrists or around his chest when I did something around his torso.

Bodhi showed us some basic knots and explained about anatomy using such technical terms as ‘the squishy bit’ and ‘the poky bit’ (he also knew the medical terms, but his presentation was great). He also talked about circulation and nerves and how to help a person lie down once their hands are tied.

Also about how the knotted ends of rope have eyeball magnets in them and they will always hit the bottom in the eye so to be careful.

At the end, he and the woman who was bottoming for him that evening did a scene that was intimate and powerful. Some other people there were chatting quietly and I was thinking, ‘Are you not seeing what I’m seeing? How can you have a conversation right now?’ It didn’t seem like Bodhi and his bottom noticed, though. They seemed to be in their own little space.

Not to give my fellow kinksters a difficult time–they’d probably seen the scene before and were catching up with people they hadn’t seen in awhile.

After Walter gets paid again we’re buying some rope so I can start practising. We were talking about how terrible we are at everything. We can’t even do this right. My 6’4” husband getting tied up by his 5’5” wife.

It’s completely nonsexual to us…as is everything, as we’re asexual, but that makes it that much more entertaining.

As this was going on and I was happily trying to work out how to do the knots and such, I suddenly remembered how my mother said that as soon as I learned how to tie knots I would tie everything that could be tied together together. Jump ropes, shoelaces, things she’d never considered as tie-able before. She was constantly having to untie things.

I never had the urge to tie people, though. And I’m sure I’d be perfectly happy with some vaguely human-shaped thing to practise on.

That sounded creepier than I intended.

Even creepier--it could be one of these morphsuits stuffed with pillows. (source)

Even creepier–it could be one of these morphsuits stuffed with pillows. (source)

The good news is that I don’t have to pay anyone to make a rig for me to practise on or (god forbid) have to deal with other human beings’ schedules, as I have a person living in my house that is vaguely human-shaped. And he’s happy as long as he can fiddle with his phone.

So I’m not a rope top yet, but I look forward to learning more and going to future events and annoying Bodhi to death with questions. (Preemptive apologies!)

On a final note: The rope bite event is held at a gay club, which allows us to do this for free, amazingly. Afterward everyone went upstairs to buy some drinks as a thank you and as we were leaving we nearly ran into two huge drag queens. I heard one say to the other, ‘Oh honey, let the pedestrians through first.’

As we were all on foot, I took it she was using ‘pedestrian’ to mean ‘straight’ or ‘boring’ or whatever. And I nearly laughed out loud.

Darling, sweetie pie, booboo kitten, you have no idea.

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