Wrapped Up In My Desire

After seeing the recent suspension photo of Tambo, a reader asked me this.

“Now I think I understand the artistic reasons and maybe the acrobatic ones…
a bit, but what I don’t understand is the physical why. Why do you like to
tie girls up?”

I probably could write a book on this, the reasons why I enjoy binding flesh are as diverse as the women I enjoy binding. Rather than try and explain all of them, let me share just one of the many with you.

I am a tactile person. I experience the world through my sense of touch. Give me a new object and I will turn it in my hands and feel it’s surface. Give me a supple woman’s torso and I’ll spend my time exploring the curves of it with my fingertips, reading her lines like a blind man reads Braille.

Now, when I bind I do more than just touch a lover with my hands.

It starts with the uncoiling of the ropes, as I run it through my hands I am not just feeling for burrs and stray objects, I’m also connecting with it. Feeling its unique texture and tuning in to it. Every rope has a feel, a texture, a ki if it were. In my hands, the length of golden hemp sings to me, it’s fibers worn soft by the skin of a dozen lovers. As I take that rope and place it upon her naked flesh I do more than just set it there. My hands encircle her torso as fingers feel along the lay of the rope for twists, making sure it sits perfect against her flesh. I take the slack up in my free hand and confidently tug it tight. I am now touching her with more than just my fingers. My hands may no longer be in contact with her skin, but she knows I am still there. The rope now is an extension of my sexuality, of my desire. With more passes across her boudy she is cocooned in my rope, unable to do anything but accept the desire, to relax into the binds and the inevitability of my want for her. I can bind her slowly and tenderly or quickly but in the end she is held fast by me.

Wrapped tight like a lovely Christmas present to me in rope…and oh what fun we will have unwrapping that.