BOUND - A Rope Bunny's Perspective
Before I really got into kink, someone asked me what I was interested in. “I don’t know,” I said, “maybe wax play or knives. I’d really like to try rope.” He scoffed, “most girls do. I don’t do rope. It’s boring.”
I will tell you why it’s NOT boring... at least for me.
I went to a party - not my first, but very early on. As I waited to use the restroom, @F1nger was there, chatting with another party goer. While they talked, he played with the rope, creating beautiful knots in an intricate pattern down his arm. I watched, and then when the other person left, I told him how beautiful his rope work is and I introduced myself. We connected on Fet later and I told him of my interest in rope. We started talking about doing a scene at @Crucible. Over the next couples weeks - yes, weeks! - we negotiated and discussed our scene, all over text.
Finally, the night came. It was a 101 night, so we had to wait... and wait... and wait. And then they announced open play. @F1nger and I found a spot. I undressed, as we discussed, and prepared for this “sensual rope”, as he called it. We did final negotiations and then he looked at me - only for the second time in person, and said “are you ready?” I nodded.
Instead of going into detail of that particular night, I’ll explain why I so love shibari, in general and specifically with my wonderful rope top.
He wraps his arms around me. That’s how he always starts. I already feel the tension leave my body. He grabs his rope - sometimes hemp, sometimes nylon - and glides it across my skin. Regardless of the type, the sensation of the rope against my skin feels like nails being dragged slightly across me. I get goosebumps. He usually catches my nipples between the rope pieces. They become a little more erect. More goosebumps come. Once he gets the rope where he needs it to be, he pulls it close against my body, enveloping me in him and in the rope. The room starts to fade. The sounds start to fade.
As he ties, it’s just him and me. As he moves around me, he caresses me - my stomach, my breasts, my legs, my butt. We have moments when I open my eyes and we make eye contact. We don’t need to speak. We can feel each other’s energy run between us through the rope. As he binds my arms or my legs, I feel a constant hug around my body. It’s like a gentle embrace of a loved one. My brain fades into somewhere warm and happy. There are no other people or sounds - just him and me. The touches from his hand, the graze of his cheek against me, or his lips as they brush my collarbone... it sends me into a trance. I get lost in the sensation - of being bound, of him, of us. We have a moment that seems to last forever.
As the rope moves across my skin, as do his hands, I lose track of time and space. I let him and his rope cradle me as I am bound. Eventually, he is done. When we do groundwork, I’m just bound - lost in the moment. But when I am suspended - oh!!! When he moves me into suspension, it’s like I’m floating and weightless. I’ve already lost track of time, people... now I start to lose track of space. The rope holds my full weight. Even though I can feel it where it squeezes and presses, it’s like a warm lover’s embrace. I’m lost in the beauty, the tightness, the weightlessness, the heaviness. It’s a contradictory feeling that sends me into the unknown beautiful subspace.
As he brings me down to untie me, I fall deeper into subspace. Instead of coming into reality, my mind blanks as he reverses his knots. The ropes glide against my skin in the opposite direction. He continues to touch, caress, and kiss me as he undoes his beautiful art. Eventually, I am no longer bound. I feel the tightness disappear and I come back into the moment. Usually, when I do and I open my eyes, he is there gazing back at me. We have had a moment. We have had a number of moments. We shared that magical space together.
And then I get tired. I leave subspace and feel exhausted. He holds me in my aftercare. He shows as much attention once removing the rope as he does putting it on. Our moment continues while I bring myself back to reality.
Later, when we see the pictures, I see the serenity and peace in my face and eyes. The rope marks left indented on my skin are a reminder of those moments between us. They are a reminder of that magical place he brought me to. As I look through the pictures, I see just a canvas in myself. I am the canvas of @F1nger’s beautiful art. I want to continue to be a beautiful canvas for him and continue falling into that beautiful subspace every time I am bound.
So no, rope is not boring. It’s blissful. It’s beautiful. It’s performance art from a truly talented artist. I love being bound. It provides moments of peace and tranquility I otherwise would rarely, if ever, feel. It is sensual and beautiful. It is sexy and romantic. I get lost in myself and in him and in us as the rope binds us together. I love every moment of it. I love being BOUND.
To my amazing rope top, @F1nger, thank you for tying with me, for being my top and letting me be your rope bunny (officially!!!). Thank you for giving me that experience over and over and over. I look forward to so many more scenes. Xoxoxo