Yesterday I went to the
RopeShare Dojo. It was amazing. I learned so much about basic rope play and the teachers, assistants and fellow students were all great. That I could just walk off the street into a beautiful studio and be among other friendly, accomplished, funny, smart, kinky people interested in rope play was transforming. Up until this class I'd pretty much been a reasonably educated consumer of an occasional tie down. Rope bondage has not been a regular menu item among the wishlists I've presented to prodommes I've sessioned with over the years. But two experiences gave me rope on the brain.
First was a couple of years ago in the embryonic throes of my one of its kind relationship with "She-Who-Visits". She and her husband were going to a city out of town for the weekend. They were planning on a fun fullfilled romp and she said she was packing her jeans, her little black dress and lots of rope. I flat out ached with jealousy!! Second was being tied to a cold steel St. Andrew's Cross at L'Oeil Cache by an amazingly creative young domme who has a passion for rope. She was the first I knew of to lash me down with hemp rope. Inspired by this transcendent scene I wrote these lines on The Hang:
Can we find true romance, new millenium style, on the toll road to heaven... or is that best left in the pile of hemp rope, cut from a chest ... fallen on the dungeon floor?
A day or so later we met for cookies and milk at a
local bakery she favors. She very genuinely chided me for suggesting that she'd actually had to cut her hemp rope off me. "That was the twine", she indignantly corrected. I mumbled something about creative license, but after RopeShare I understand the skill and pride a top rope domme takes in her craft.
The class was divided into beginners, intermediates and black diamonds with icy moguls. The
lovely and charming Yin, our hostess with the mostest, taught the black belts. Andy Weiner guided the intermediates and my basic noobie course was taught by the incomparable
Delano. And somewhere, the oh-so-hot
Michele Serchuk assisted. Really, I totally confess I was kinda smitten by her.
Delano taught us safety, safety and more safety. Watch your bottom for body temp changes. Bottoms don't wimp out and not sing out if your hands or feet start to tingle and get numb. Keep EMT shears handy and don't be afraid to use them. In an effort to come to class with "safety shears" I had pathetically bought a pair of little plastic kiddie scissors. At least my face saving joke that no, I wasn't intentionally trying to combine ageplay and rope bondage got a classmate to laugh. We learned about hemp, cotton, nylon, jute and polypropylene. I now know from rope burn rate. We learned four basic ties - quick release two column tie, two column lock down tie, sling tie, and my fave, the very sexy spreader bar tie. We learned the importance of communication.
It was a major stretch for me to do the tying. But look ma, there I was - the life long bottom - dancing the top part. Unnatural as it felt, I really saw first hand the knowledge, practice and experience that goes into serious rope bondage. I got big time new respect and admiration for dommes who perfect the choreography of the tie down. Just controlling the rope is a major deal. Our graduation exercise was working all four ties into a creative rope bondage experience. Delano's demonstration of the spreader bar tie as gag was just a flat out "take-me-out-to-the-ballgame-and-buy-me-some-peanuts-and-crackerjacks" experience. It just made me wanna play ball!!
We all donated some money to the
National Coalition for Sexual Freedom and had a grand old time. I definitely want to go to some more rope play classes. I loved the no ego, laboratory experience and the friendly manner everyone involved had. And it just made me want to get into even better shape, do my stretches, my yoga and get more flexible. Ya never know when Ms. Right will come outta nowhere, because;
You can make this beggar a king
A clown or a poet - poet, poet, poet.
I'll give you all that I own.
You got me standing in line
Out in the cold
Pay me some mind.
Gotta love 60's lypsyncin' don't cha?
