Do It Like Ya Mean It

So, new lesson learned: set up the harness like you're going to use it.

This may be my Steven Covey moment. Covey is the self-help guru with "habits for effective people." One of those being: begin with the end in mind.

I was doing some really gorgeous floor work the other day. And constructed a very beautiful harness. Which was lovely and pleasant until I decided I wanted to do a partial suspension -- and that my harness was not up to the task.

While it was ultimately my pleasure to untie and retie a gorgeous woman, it was a learning moment for me. Thinking a few steps ahead is very important. Especially if you want to look all masterful and stuff. And particularly if you may have a baby eel on your hands . . .

Lesson learned.

Rope dreams

In my dream last night, I was tying a big guy into a strapedo. One of my bi leather boy friends (and I realize, writing that, I seem to have a lot of those) was holding said man down, a knee shoved into his back, and his hands holding the man's wrists into the strapedo.

I asked the man not much later if he played with rope at all, and excused myself to grab my rope kit (and quickly peek to see if anyone had a "recipe" for a nice strapedo in their book -- I've never tied one yet). I remember wondering if I'd have enough 8mm in my kit to use that, because his arms were so big and muscular. And then I woke up.

This might mean it's time to process the 100 ft of 8mm I have waiting for me, you think?

It probably also means that I'm really disappointed that I'm not making it to Shibaricon after all. I gave my passes to someone I hope will get a lot out of them (and who I hope will write it up for me - we'll see!)

Knots

I'm about to head out to see the Pyrate Lass for a nice kinky weekend of my ordering her to sit on the couch while I do service topping things. New direction in our kink? Not so much. She's on bedrest at the moment, and I'm just the tender du jour.

We are preparing for boredom: books and crafts, and some garden-fresh herbs so I can do a bit of cooking.

This being us, she asked me to bring books so she can practice some ties.

And being me, I've also thrown in my proper knots books on top of the shibari books, and a bit of nylon rope to practice the stuff in the Two Knotty Boys book. (More on that in another post, probably.)

I often quip that I do Japanese-style rope bondage mostly because it doesn't require fancy knots. If you can do create a larkshead, an overhand knot, and a square knot you're basically good to go. I'd started out trying to learn a lot of knots, realized I didn't really need to, and stopped learning them. A Foole's Cuff is probably as fancy as I get, and of course I'm always making up weaves on the fly to get harnesses to lay flat. I think I can tie a Camel's Hitch, but I usually end up just doing one by accident and recognizing it after the fact.

Perhaps I'm being reactionary (that article yesterday said something about not becoming a knot geek) but I'm feeling again today like I really want to learn some proper knots and hitches. Even if I don't end up using them in bondage, I might in my house or garden. And of course it's always going to be useful when the ex-Boy Scouts start trying to use knot language in the SIGs, so I can look at them a bit less blankly. And so in go the books.

Which makes me wonder what knots other bondage afficionados think I should start out with? Anyone? Anyone? Graydancer?

Dirty South Blogs

I'd been recently despairing that unlike Seattle and San Francisco the Dirty South doesn't really have any kink columnists.

Well, go figure. One of the new blogs out of Austin has a kink columnist, who just put up a decent entry on playing with rope.

And no, it's not me in Yet Another Writing Guise. Although, would that I'd thought of that!

In which Miriam suspends herself . . .

. . . and lives to tell the tale . . .

Maybe I can blame boredom. Folks were pretty low energy today, and there wasn't a whole lot of tying going on at the time. I was antsy, like a kid whose friends won't come out to play. It might have just been curiosity, or a sense of the perverse.

I'd been half-helping a new SIG member, consulting on some of his ties, when he mentioned, "Last month, some girl suspended herself."

Huh.

Immediately, my mind starts turning this idea over and over, and from the first instant I can tell this is probably a Bad Idea. It's not been too long since I did my first suspension of anyone, you see.

Then I start convincing myself. The guys won't let me fall and crack my head open, right? I mean, I can't actually hurt myself, Pyrate Lass would kill me. The new guy quips that he's a wheelchair salesman, but by this time, it's not deterring me. Those words were there before me, a little gauntlet, a challenge. Moreover, I can almost but not quite see the engineering before me.

By this time, I'm laying out rope.

I started with a hip and crotch harness, which was originally tied off to a couple of garters on my thighs, and then threw in a chest harness (with my hands free, obviously). That worked . . . okay. Not so well. In version 2.0 I'd rigged the thighs through the crotch harness and chest harness. That took a little of the pressure off, but looked ugly.

By then, I really, really wanted this to work. I'd managed to get myself off the ground twice, but it wasn't pretty and I couldn't stay in it more than a few seconds.

Off came most of the ropes. I got the thigh ropes completely off, resecured the crotch ropes, and redid the chest harness with a nice big looped handle in the front. I secured the crotch ropes directly to the chest harness and used them to cinch off the chest ropes so they wouldn't move quite as easily. And then I retied the thighs entirely, making proper cuffs with a square knot and a loop for each. (Once again, I'd screwed up the first time by starting with a larkshead like I do for floor work. I know better, really. Or, I should.)

And then, up again. This time, I got the chest harness nice and secure as I stood. I put my left leg firmly down, and then ran the chest harness rope through the hoop and then through the right thigh harness, and pulleyed that leg up pretty far. Then, I bore down hard to sit up on that right thigh rope as I pulled the rope back through the hoop, and through the left thigh rope, pulleying that one up as well. I secured the ropes with a few passes and then -- Wheeeee!

This one, I could get around in, and I did. My foot found the spanking bench, and I used it to push myself to swing back and forth and twirl a bit. It was awesome.

On the upside, I could really work to my own comfort. While I mean this as no critique of the riggers who've suspended me before, it was an entirely new level of "instant feedback" to feel instantly where any pressure points were and to be able to correct those immediately.

On the downside, I really couldn't let myself fly. I did get a huge endorphin rush, don't get me wrong. Both my rigger's brain and my rope slut brain had to be fully engaged to pull this off. But I couldn't get too loopy, with the challenge of getting myself down safely always at mind. And, I had to do my own aftercare, which was fun. I had really exerted myself, gotten sweaty, and worked out my brain. And, there was the extra adrenalin rush of knowing what I was doing wasn't entirely safe, even though I had a fairly strong looking spotter at hand (who also gave excellent engineering suggestions).

So again, I went to the SIG planning to take it easy and really seriously pushing my edges. Which I'm happy about. I didn't sit outside pouting that my friends didn't come out to play. I made my own game, had a blast, and seemed to amuse a few others in the process.

No matter how tired I am going in, I never leave the SIG disappointed.

Kink permaculture

A friend came up to me excitedly last night. "Oh, Miriam, I have something for you." The something turned out to be several lengths of bamboo that he'd salvaged from an art project, and thought I could turn into canes or whatnot.

I honestly don't know if they'll make good canes, although I'm chasing up some articles on cane making to see. I'm concerned that they're regular bamboo and not specifically rattan. This other site suggests that because bamboo is hollow, it's only a good choice for very light or medium play, and that hard play might split the cane and create instant and razor-sharp edges. Given that I have broken some of the canes on my birch bundles over asses, this might not be a good idea for me . . .

If they won't work for that, I'll probably cut them to lengths for use in rope play. One of my friends and mentors does amazing things with bamboo, creating extra columns, bamboo bit gags, and other toys that look just gorgeous with rope. And I hope to see him today. So perhaps that's the better way to go. We'll see.

So, I don't know what I'll do with it yet, but I love that my friend thought of me. Another friend may gift me with her (rather large) dog crate when her dog outgrows it. Neither of these folks are in the scene, but they're my friends and they're supportive.

Out of the blue yesterday, I got an amazing and touching gift. A friend who demo bottomed for me at the auction last month hand crafted a magickal oil for me to say thanks.

I started this entry to talk about the canes, but the more I write the more I touch on something else. And that's the value of being open.

It's a fine line I walk. I want to be open and honest about my life, and I don't want to squick anyone.

My friend with the puppy cage is an excellent barometer. I think I've erred on the side of TMI in the past, and also wrestled with the temptation to give too little information - so little information that she might not understand the landscape of my life and relationships. Slowly I've learned to give her a broad overview. She can know that I'm negotiating with a service submissive without knowing the details of our contract. She can know what's going on with Pyrate Lass without having to know exactly how we play. And she gets the really good stories, the ones I can tell without too much squickage and play for laughs.

In my magickal community, I really can't talk about my magickal practice without talking about rope. Rope is in part something I am working with as a magickal tool. And so I try to push my edges, and my community's edges, gently. I can show off my rope work making art projects, or helping ease a donated refrigerator down a ramp. And when it was appropriate I did use my chest-tying powers for good at auction, pushing the envelope just enough and I think safely for everyone. But this is part of being seen.

There are places where I really feel no need to be out of the closet. I can't see a benefit of speaking about these things at work, for example. (The tradeoff, of course, is that I don't have close friends from work, either.) But mostly, I need to be seen to make connection. Rope, play and D/s are major parts of my life, and aspects that are pretty important to really knowing me. They're not all of my life -- you get fair amounts of magick and gardening and music geekery, too -- but they're also not just side interests.

And the gifts of that are that you make real friends and real connections. Sometimes those gifts are very tangible. It's Earth Day - reuse, reduce and recycle, and all that. In the garden, I am always taking on things that would otherwise be trash -- newspapers, cardboard, coffee grounds -- and turning them into productive garden beds. These gifts are the same to me, a little kink permaculture. That bamboo, that puppy cage? Both would otherwise have been trash or garage junk to someone. But to me, they are both useful and also signifiers that my practice itself has value in my friends' eyes, and that they recognize kink as important to me in the same sense my gardening is. That's no small thing.

TwistedMonkTV

If you liked Monk's lovely instructional videos from the Twisted Monk website, you're going to love his new YouTube section.

If you act now, you get ten new instructional videos, including the body harness, the hog tie, and a chest and leg harness.

But wait! There's still more! If you act now, you get Monk's hair tie absolutely free!

Now how much would you pay?

Well, the answer is free!* That's right, just direct your browser to "TwistedMonkCom" on YouTube and you get all these videos and more absolutely free!

* Rope not included. Offer not available in all states. Must be able to at least tie your shoes. Must be 18 or over and of legal age to watch rope videos to qualify. 14.4k modems are unlikely to display videos correctly. Pyrate Lasses pay a surcharge of learning to tie your Daddy up for Teh Hott Sex. Ties as shown may not hold effectively under nylon rope. See TwistedMonk.com for further details.

4mm

I often say I tie like a girl. It's my gentle way of tweaking the good ol' boy riggers I consider my friends and mentors. I say that I tie like a girl, but tying like a girl has helped me at things from hoisting girls into suspension to safely getting refrigerators down a ramp without anyone getting hurt.

But next week, I am especially proud to tie like a girl. It's CBT day at the Houston Rope SIG, and several of the regulars are (regretfully, if not surprisingly) backing out. Me? I'd say I'll be there "with bells on", but the last time I said that one of my sicko friends showed up with sisal and a cow bell.



I've been looking forward to this for weeks. Despite being a top, my sweetie with an attached penis is going to let me lay on the 4mm rope I processed. I love that man.

And I think I'm going to ask my girl to show off how to make a dildo harness (that's her work above). That should be fun and interesting for all, even the easily-squicked-by-boy-bits. Those boys always seem intrigued by someone who can fuck like a girl, too . . .

My First Suspension

If I had the energy at the moment to write up my SIG this weekend, it would be titled: "My First Suspension," by Miriam. Perhaps it would even be a picture book.

However having rigged my first (and second, and third) suspensions today, including an awesome full suspension, I am exhausted. Perhaps after I have had more sleep . . .

Austin Rope Symposium 2007

Watch this space for more information on the next Austin Rope Symposium. (Which, paradoxically, will not be in Texas.)

Early rumors are that the presenters list will be amazing.

So keep an eye out. Just don't, you know, bump me from my spot in the registrations.

I'm a sucker for a vintage cord . . .

Like Bettie Page, but hate the sloppy ropework she and her cohorts are in most of the time? Looking for some vintage-style bondage executed with a bit more skill?

In steps Tie Me Up Tom.com with some really fun pics of leather- and lingerie-clad bottoms in some really nice ropework. It's enough to redeem my opinion of cotton and nylon, seriously. Nice stuff. And of course it's got the smile afterward, not to mention the smile during.

Want more? Tom also has a Livejournal. Complete with ponies!

More practical rigging

At first I was a little embarrassed to see that someone made it to this lil blog from Googling for gardening info. But then I remembered: I'm shameless. And I followed the link back to see how I'd showed up.

And, being shameless, I'll share back with the rest of the class.

Got twine? Got bamboo? Well, then, you can also get thee a fence with very simple traditional Japanese knots. I suspect the basic fence- and trellis- skills on this site could also make very nice, sturdy play racks for the more shameless among us.

Snakes on a sub

Fantastic weekend. All the good things: leather, rope, talons, knives, wax, rigging, hot sex, and -- last but not least -- a motherfucking snake on the motherfucking girl. (Hot!)

More weekend updates when I have slept for more than four hours.

Release

There are a couple of riggers in my local community who do very firm therapeutic acupressure in play. At first, you think: Oh, that's nice, the rigger is going to give me a bit of a massage. That will help me relax in the ropes.

Uh huh.

Then, the next thing you know you're up there flying about in the harness with both feet suspended, completely unable to move, and the top has his thumb pressed all the way between two muscles in your buttocks, basically Rolfing and rerouting something as intimate as your basic architecture.

Ow.

I'm not sure if it's the pain, or the realization that I am no longer in control of something as simple and basic as my musculature. What I do know is that I went down, hard. So hard that a photographer friend asked after me to see if I was okay. Down, down, down. Unable to move. Unable to resist. Unable to do anything but allow my muscles to give way to a pressure right at the edge of bearable.

It was . . . pretty amazing. Massage school folk have just taken on amazing new properties in my mind. (Damn: another vanilla profession treyfed for me.)

The internets were built for porn . . .

Okay, so my Cap'n friend thinks the internets were built for porn. My dear Cap'n, this link to Chanta Rose's new site Fucked and Bound is for you. (Softcore? No, eh?)

But hey, it's got the smile afterward not to mention more than a bit of the smile during.

(And, if you're into that kind of rope-and-sex thing, the preview page has enough to give one plenty of wicked ideas for upcoming play parties . . . )

The spirit of the rope

Being a good pagan, I realized early this week that I should try to build an alliance with my rope as a tool by creating a relationship with the spirit of the rope itself. Yes, those of you who are not pagans may think this is gobbeldygook, but it all felt very profound to me.

For the most part, this has involved lots of using a 15-foot rope to tie myself into a lovely crotch rope with a "happy knot" and masturbating, while focused on increasing my erotic ties to the rope.

Unsurprisingly, it's been a very good week. ;-)

The smile afterward . . .

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SIG

I did a fair amount of both rigging and being rigged at yesterday's SIG, and learned a few new tricks with bamboo: a quick-release harness with a small central pole, a new way to attach wrists to a 'crucifixion' pole over the shoulders, and a way to use bamboo spreader bars as attachment points for a hog tie.

All this, and I got to be suspended. I've been needing it: the more stressed I am, the harder I want to be played. And so I let myself sink deeply down into the suspension for a while, taking a few minutes to just let everything go and move where I was moved. I was still flying a bit hours later. Exactly what I needed.

(Well, maybe not exactly. I still could use a massive spanking, but I'll take what I can get.)

Alive and well, if a bit hoarse

I am in fact still alive, although with a deep cough. My girl is using her sneaky ways to convince me to see a doctor soon. Ah, turnabout. Sadly, the deep and rumbling cough is not quite the flavor of "daddy" I'm aiming for . . .

Ideally, however, the cough will just pass and I will make it to the local rope SIG Sunday. A friend took Steve Indand's class in Austin when I was away. I'm looking forward to swapping notes with him on what Steve covered in the intermediate class, which I haven't taken. With town nearly cleared of kinksters from South Plains, it ought to be quiet, which I'm actually looking forward to - that should give a lot more space and ease to just dig in and play.

"Wednesday is for washing"

I try not to wash my rope too often. For regular play, I don't. Hemp rope and water don't play well with each other, and over time too much washing will break down rope. When there's no serious need to wash, this isn't worth the trade off.

For other types of play, many reasonable riggers disagree on whether or not to wash. Some do, others don't. Jay Wiseman -- known for his focus on safety, and his fanaticism for medical research related to BDSM -- notes that there are no known cases of any disease being transmitted via rope (Jay Wiseman's Erotic Bondage Handbook, Greenery Press, Emeryville, CA; 2000, p 116), and that any disease would need a moist environment to survive, such that merely drying one's ropes thoroughly after play should suffice (118). That said, he then goes for several pages to talk about disinfection for those who want it.

For me, the question of actual disease transmission is really secondary to the squick factor. I once saw Jay borrow rope from a couple for a demo. The couple were none too happy to have the ropes back after they'd been in a stranger's crotch, and no amount of Jay's research was going to make them any happier about it. I ask myself the question: Would my next bottom want these ropes on them if they knew where they'd been last? How about in their mouth, when I decide on the fly to make a rope gag? If the answer to either of these is "no," that rope gets hand-crocheted and put in the washing pile.

The fun part is once I've washed and line dried a batch, and am oiling it to put away again. Ah yes: this was a lovely rope gag when I did that hog tie. And this is what I used as crotch ropes with the Magic Wand. Oh and this! This was that lovely hand-tied dildo harness. Mmmm, memories.

(I'm also amused that I can now have about 90 feet of rope out of commission and not feel a loss!)