The Why of the Winch

V wrote me after watching the sausage fest video to ask:
Why do you enjoy suspending women from your equipment - is it all for the love of rope? I understand what personal fun/satisfaction I might get from coming over. What keeps you guys inviting over the wenches - Scooby snacks?

Why winch?

Does one really need a reason why they enjoy tying up nice girls (and boys) who bring them treats?

Well if you must ask, I'd say first and foremost I really enjoy sharing the bondage experience with new people. Most of our winch wenches are folks who have never tried this sort of thing, but have always wanted to. They might not be the kind who would go to a place like the wetspot or seek out a partner who had this specific skill set. However they are curious and I'm happy to share my skill with them in a safe environment. Hopefully make it an experience that they will want to seek out again (with me, their partner or someone in the rope scene).

Secondly, with every new wench comes a new challenge, a new body type, and a new set of physical limits / expectations / challenges. I enjoy that mental (and physical) challenge. , Practice makes perfect. Besides, I enjoy tying girls up. It makes me happy, plain and simple.

Lastly I think it is a really fun way to meet my readers and say thank you to them.

I’ve been on my feet for something approaching 20 hours, but the moves are done. Nerdy and Dancer are both moved and getting settled. In addition to all the lugging and hauling I also managed to spend an inordinate amount of time in the shop fretting over next month’s color of the month. While I put a lot of time into getting all the colors perfect, this month's color has become a bit of an obsession. This one needs to be just right. I think I have done something like 10+ test dye runs and 3 separate, full scale dye runs have been done this weekend alone.

As of 11:40 on Sunday night, my final attempt looks like it might be the one. All the telltale signs are there, but I won’t know for a fact till tomorrow when it is completely dry. See, rope gets lighter as it dries and that color you thought you had nailed? Well it could easily fade into something all together different. I guess you will have to stay tuned till the 1st of February when I announce the color to know for sure.

With that I must retire, but first a finger of some fine Irish whiskey (a gift from my buddy GrayDancer, thanks again hermano). Yeah I know this will cost me an extra 20 minutes on the treadmill tomorrow, but after this weekend I think I earned it.

So while I sweat my ass off to the sounds of old Judas Priest, check out this cool video of naked taiko drummers. (Note to self, remember to book the tickets to Tokyo soon!)

Oh man, way too busy for words right now. Sorry for the lack of updates, but things have been more hectic than usual. I know, I know it is sorta anti-climactic to write a manifesto about staying true to your ideals and writing what you believe in, only to not write much of anything. No, the ideals are still firmly in place, just the time required to stop, focus and put word to page has been pretty scarce this week. Between spending today helping Nerdy move, helping Dancer move this weekend, perfecting next months top secret color of the month and end of year accounting stuff I’m flat out swamped.

The Janesguide.Com column is still in the works…patience.

So till I get a minute free to breathe and focus my thoughts, enjoy Graydancer’s new rope weekly podcast. (You can listen to it free by clicking on the banner graphic along the right side of this page or by going here) Also, there are only a few days left to take advantage of our sale on 8MM rope. Sale ends on the 31st so don’t wait go buy some rope now!

And one parting thought before I dash off to join Dancer for a little late night, pre-move horizontal groove. I’ve always had a theme song. Some rock tune that at a particular time in my life sorta summed up who I was and where I was at the time. Of course times, just like people, change so that theme music changes too. Over the course of my thirty odd years on this planet I’ve had a lot of different songs. There was…
“The Real Me” The Who
“Living in Overdrive” Kings of the Sun
“Young Lions” Adrian Belew
“Stand and Deliver” Adam Ant
“Float On” Modest Mouse
Recently, I’m not too sure just what my theme music would sound like save for the simple fact that it would be driven and un-flinching.

A quick check of the I-pod tells me that “Mob Scene” by Marilyn Manson is currently ranked as my most played song…hmm

What have your theme songs been?

My Personal Sadist

My personal trainer is a nice boy from the Midwest. Young and fresh faced, he looks like the kind of boy you might like to take home to your mom. He’s also a fucking evil little bastard who leaves me sore and wobbly once a week. I jokingly call him, “Mikey the fucker”

But it is hard to hate a guy who is only doing what you pay him for. He kicks my ass and I happily plunk down funds to keep him doing it. Ya know, even for a vanilla boy he is a decent kid. When I told him what I did for a living, he just laughed and then made me do more sit-ups. Not that I have been actively trying to freak the kid out, but you know if he is going to ask me and I’m paying for the service you bet I’m going to tell the truth. So far he has been more than cool with it all. We recently were reviewing my progress (down to 17% body fat, woot!) and goals for the next quarter when I told him that I was going to be posing for a famous fetish photographer in April.
His response? “Will these shots be nude or clothed”
“Probably both”
“Ok, so rather than 3 times a week on the treadmill I want you in here 5 times, let’s drop the leg workouts for more abs….”

And so now I need to figure out just how to fit in another 2 trips a week to the gym. Between everything else in my life I’m already feeling pressed for time. Something just has to give. At this point I’m going to have to choose to either sleep less or give up on looking at MILF porn online.

Well who needs sleep anyways?

So with that, yes there has been a decided lack of gratuitous Monk nudity around here. That is about to change come April. Stay tuned.

So I’m sitting here in a Starbucks doing that classic “Guy hunched over his laptop earnestly writing while sipping his overpriced coffee” thing. I could be sitting in your favorite one right now; look around I’m the one with the bloodshot eyes and hemp dust on his shirt. Across from me a group of sports types are having a bible study. Beefy men with thick necks sit uncomfortably in their men’s warehouse suits and talk Jesus together while I sit here and type about non-monogamy.

Funny thing that non-monogamous life, of all the aspects of my chosen lifestyle; the rope company, the kink, and all those silly hats its the poly thing that raises most folks eyes. Tell them that I make bondage rope for a living and they respond with awe that there are, in fact, that many perverts out there who buy rope. Mention that for fun I like to tie up naked girls (and a few select boys) and they respond with blushes and giggles. Tell them that I’m madly in love with two of the coolest women on earth and folks get edgy, downright defensive even.

As if my having two partners somehow is a personal threat, like if word of this gets out the world will be taken over by Nazis on dinosaurs.

Sadly, I’m all too familiar with this sort of response. One of the elements of my chosen lifestyle is to unapologetically open about it. This is who I am, deal with it or move aside. Not everyone likes this, specifically members of my biological family. I’ve always been a bit “different” but they all seemed to manage better when they did not have to read about it here. Let me tell you, knowing that your parents are reading about you sex life tends to put a damper on just what you choose to write.

This is not a plea for pity, rather an apology to all of you. See, I have been pulling my punches as of late. Opting to write about the mundane rather than what I would like to out of worry that my words would be taken out of context. No more. When pressed to choose between what I hold as truth and the desires of those who would rather I slink back into a darkened, shame filled closet. I choose my morals.

And with that, dear readers, let us return to talking about topics like sex, blood, food and the joys of living the life less ordinary.

Additionally, let this serve as food for thought. No one is truly invisible on-line. No journal is truly anonymous. One day you will be held accountable for your words. The question is how will you respond? With burning shame or defiant pride?

The bible study is breaking up. Men bow their heads in a closing prayer and begin to pack up their bibles. The nearest one catches my eye and I give him a smile and nod, nothing more. While I may not agree with his lifestyle choice, I have to respect them for what they are. His.


now I must close this for today and shuttle my dearest Tambo off to her office. I have a full day ahead of me followed by a date with Dancer. Stellars pizza and nudity, my favorite way to spend a Tuesday night

Sorry kids, a minor delay with this week’s column. The crew at Janesguide.com is not quite ready for me to go live, so while we wait enjoy this.

Remember the sausage fest a few weeks back?

My amazing video guy was on hand shooting footage for another project we are working on and caught the wenching of the winch, or is that the winching of the wench? Either way he cut this together and it rocks. So here you go, hot off the editing bay. “Ever wonder what it is like to be a winch wench?” (24MB, WMV, Work Safe)

Oh and for you mac types, here is a QuickTime version.

Heat at last, heat at last, thank god almighty, heat at last.


Is this not the most beautiful thing you have ever seen? For what feels like forever we have been fighting the cold. Dressed in layer upon layer of our finest Army surplus heavy wool wear, we were beginning to look a bit like the Stay-Puff Marshmallow Man here at the Abbey. There is, however a limit to how many pairs of long underwear a person can actually wear and still be able to bend their legs.

Thankfully that has all changed. An extra profitable Christmas season gave us enough funds to upgrade the Abbey and install actual heaters to the main workspace. After weeks of dealing with installers, the fire marshalls and all the red tape we JUST got them up and heating the air. Sure, we will still be dressing in our woolen finest, but the only blue feet in our future will be from bad bondage porn.

Ironically enough, today is also the one year anniversary of Griffin coming to work for me. Having braved the cold and damp for a year he just walked up to me, soaked up the new warmth and asked “This is nice, so what do I get for my second year of service, conjugal visits?”

Ugh...
Nerdy just handed me the numbers for how much rope we need to make in order to (a) fill the current order queue, (b) fill the projected Valentines Day queue and (c) have suffincent stock for Body Bound.

The bottom line, we have 4 weeks to make 2 miles of rope.... 10,500 ft.

And so the drumbeat of the death march rumbles again to life.

New Banners!

My graphics guy is amazing. He delivered new banner graphic


...and blog link graphics last night.


If you want to add one of these links to your site or blog just paste in the following code:
for the banner: <a href="http://www.twistedmonk.com"><img src="http://www.twistedmonk.com/link/468x60_twistedmonk.jpg" alt="" border="0" />
'
for the blog link: <a href="http://www.twistedmonk.com"><img src="http://www.twistedmonk.com/link/blog_banner.gif" alt="" border="0" />'


In other news, Max (of bondagelessons.com) just announced that he will be teaching a partial suspension class next month. Max’s focus on safety, practicality and hands on approach to teaching has made his monthly bondage classes a must attend. His 101 and 201 classes regularly sell out. The last time he taught this it was two years ago and the place was packed, mark your calendars and come join us.
Click here for more info.

Right now I look like someone took a swing at me. All the white space of my right eye has been replaced by a mass of red veins. Ever since the ARS show in Austin I get this when I push too hard. Go too long with out proper sleep and my one eye just goes nuts and looks all manner of gross. If I make a point to get some extra sleep it will be gone in a few days, but boy howdy does it look strange right now.

My first column for Janesguide.com is ready to go. While I enjoy the act of writing and have been writing to all o you for nearly two years now, this first column has been a bit of a challenge. Dancer has been a huge help, sharing her years of experience and wielding the editor’s pen, as I work to get my column writing legs underneath me. Funny, some folks would be happy having one amazing, supportive partner who actively contributed to the success of their craft. Me? I have two.

The next big event on our radar is Body Bound in Portland, OR. If you have not yet registered for this, best do it now. This will be an intimate event, so space is really limited. Last I heard Bridgett had only a few slots left. Now for those of you who are going, oh boy do we have some great things in store for you! I just got back from a late dinner with Midori and while I can’t share the details yet… oh boy, you will not want to miss this event.

Ok, so now I’m just rambling here so I should take that as my queue to go to bed. Now before I do, I have a question for you. Actually more along the lines of a musical recommendation request. I’m a fan of what some would call the “Jangly pop” sound. Stuff like Harvey Danger’s, “Save it for later” or The Magnetic Fields’, “1000 butterflies” (actually I really like just about anything from them). Well recently I discovered the tune “This Year” from The Mountain Goats and REALLY like that sound.

So, any recommendations for tunes to fill out the “Jangle Pop Mix” on my I-pod?

A Bowling Ball Called “Wanda”

Like most healthy, sexually active adults I like porn and like said adults I look to the Internet as a source for said porn. Yes Billy, the net is really nothing more than a global pornography network. An amazing one, but one none the less. Now I see a lot of bondage porn on the net and frankly most of it makes me cringe. I usually warn folks who are thinking about kink to not take much of what they see too literally. Much like using Dutch porn to explain the birds and bees to your pre-teen daughter, it is really not an accurate representation of what really happens.

A huge percentage of the stuff out there is pure shit. Worthless crap that should never be attempted at home save those with the ability to do go for long periods with out feeling their extremities or folks who actually get off on standing around looking bored. Of course there is some choice stuff too, you just need to know where to look. Of course it always helps when you supply some of the best rope sites with all their custom hemp. Good stuff, creative stuff, stuff that makes me go “Damn, how did they do that and (more importantly) how can I replicate it?”
note to self, I really one day should list all the bondage sites I supply rope to and publish it

On one such site, a site famous for innovative and smoking hot rope scenes, I came across a series of images where they were using a large steel ball as part of a predicament bondage scene. Saving some of the choice images for later study, I thought to myself that a cannon ball scene would be way too much fun to do. The question was, where the hell would I find a cannonball with a ring welded into it?

On a lark I added it to my Christmas wish list. I really didn’t have any hopes that someone would actually pony up and find me one, but it did make for some interesting responses from my friends and lovers. Most of it followed more the, “Damn, you have a problem” or something along those lines. Christmas came and went and no ball was waiting under the tree for me. No worries, with scenes ideas like this it is not so much a question of if you are going to do it, but when.

Then I found Wanda. She was laying in the flowerbeds of Dancer’s new home. Hidden amongst a pile of other discarded objects the former owner did not want to haul away when they moved out, she was doomed for the trash man. That is until I spied her when I came to tour the new house for the first time. It must have been fate, because I nearly tripped over her when I stepped out of my car that rainy Seattle day. An old, marble colored ladies bowling ball! Looking down at the object I knew what must be done. I finally found my cannon ball. Of course I did need to make sure that it was ok with Dancer before I snatched up the item.

“As long as you swear that it will never be used in a scene with me, take it”, was her response. “No worries”, I assured her. I had someone else in mind for this little orb of deviance.

I’ve written to much for one day, the treadmill calls to me. We will pick this tale up again another day.

Work Stuff

Ack! Up to my eyeballs today in orders and rope and deadlines!

1) We sold our last foot of the 6MM Color of the month!
Yep, sold out in less than 48 hours actually. I warned you not to wait. The good news is that we still have some of the thin 4MM (great for hair, breast and genital bondage) and 8MM (fantastic for first timers and casual “bedroom bondage” types)

2) Speaking of 8MM rope. ITS ON SALE!
That’s right, in order to make room for the next big shipment of rope coming in we need to clear out some space. So all our wide gauge 8MM finished hemp is on sale at 15% off. Go, buy, NOW!

3) Twistedmonk.com is looking for a good graphic design and layout person.
We have some print projects in the works and need someone to help make these a reality. We would prefer someone local to Seattle for this job, but would consider contracting with someone non local if the price was right. Interested parties should e-mail me via the blog address listed.

4) Starting January 18th I’m starting a weekly column in Janesguide.com!
That’s right, they are paying me to write a weekly column on sex, bondage and my unhealthy infatuation with lawn gnomes. Look for it next week at janesguide.com

5) Next month’s color of the month… oh it is so gonna rock.

Ok, that about wraps it up for me today. I need to get back to this boiling kettle of rope and then call France. Not the whole country mind you, just one or two people.

My Weekend?

Oh man, I really need to crawl into the rope drying room and get some sleep!

Friday was a late night in the arms of Dancer and some very politically incorrect fun.

Saturday there was this “little” (and by little I mean a jam packed, wall to wall sexy people decked out in hot fetish wear) birthday party for Miyou that went till the wee hours of the morning.

Sunday, Sunday is supposed to be a day of rest right? Nope! Max’s fantastic bondage class featured a host of exotic and shinny toys. (Exotic steel and whatnot is cool, but I’m still a rope and bamboo guy at heart. Besides, a boy could go broke getting into that sort of thing)
Then to the best part of the weekend, the bondage party! Tambo and I have a standing play date at these parties that we both look forward to and this was no exception. In addition to the joys of a giggling, swearing Tambo. I got in a fast and frenetic takedown with a cute boy. (to quote Fight Club, “In that moment all I wanted to do was to destroy something beautiful”) Last but not least a fantastic needle scene with the wee Nerdy one.

Best line of the whole weekend?
“I can do whatever the hell I want, know why? I had a bowling ball hanging from my crotch rope!”
-Tambo

Um, why did Tambo have a bowling ball named “Wanda” hanging from her crotch rope? Well that, dear readers is a tale for another (more rested) day but for now I need to kick out all these orders for the new gold rope.

What time is it?

Why its time for January's Color of the Month!

As you may know, it would be impossible to stock all the unique colors that folks ask for on a regular basis. So instead we now offer a new and unique color every month.

These are the days when it rains for like 20 days straight here in Seattle and folks rarely get to see the sun. That’s why we chose to go with a rich, golden shade for this months color. Now the tricky party would be the naming of said color. Sure, with a golden color like this and the constant rain showers… well you know where the obvious joke would go. But no! Then there was the whole James Bond, Goldfinger idea. Maybe call it “Dr. No is not a safe word” but that seemed too geeky even for us. Then it hit us like a bolt from the blue, ok more like gray, Pirate’s Plunder!

So wrap your treasured wench in this fine golden rope and make her walk the plank! Or stuff her in a treasure chest if that is your thing. Either way, enjoy this limited edition color.

This is a limited, one time color run. Once the color has been sold out, it is sold out for good

The Sausage Fest

Our dear Liss has a unique skill, that girl can win radio contests like none other. I’m not sure how she does it, but she does. She and Griffin have gone to more dinners, to concerts, and even a trip to SF on a radio’s dime, stations she does not even listen to even. Needless to say, we were not all that surprised to hear it when she told us that she won a free catered breakfast from Jimmy Dean Sausage for her entire office.

Only problem, she did not actually have an office at the time. This was Christmas and she was helping us out with the rush so I guess we were the next best thing. The offer was to be a free breakfast of greasy pork products and eggs for the entire Abbey crew and friends. After many conversations with the radio promotions people we were assured that they a) knew just what we made here at the Abbey and b) were not gonna be freaked out by it. Nothing spoils a good, free breakfast like a shocked right-winger staring at me in slack jawed horror while I try to explain the history of Japanese rope.

I figured that there would be strength in numbers so when the day did come, we invited about two dozen of our pork friendly friends and neighbors to come down, brave the cold and join in. I’ll confess, there was a moment there when we did contemplate asking everyone to dress in his or her fetishy best for the morning, then we remembered that at 9am the Abbey best resembles a large walk in meat cooler and re-considered. While the shock value might have been good for a cheap laugh, I really dislike that sort of thing. Springing your kink on the unsuspecting is just not cool in my book. Sorta like getting invited to a cocktail party, only to discover that it is actually an Amway recruiting event.

So how was the event anyways? I’d like to say that it went great and there was nothing strange to report… but I cant do that. Besides you would not be reading this if it was.

Let me see, Mr. Dean did not comedown in person to cook his said sausages. While I am not too shocked by this I am disappointed. I heard through the grapevine the Mrs. Dean was quite interested in learning more about what we do. No, our meal was made by a sweet, but befuddled looking professional psychic. How did we know that she was one? Perhaps it was her personalized license plate that read “SIGHKIK” that gave it away? Or maybe it was the fact that she was constantly handing out cards for her service to anyone who would listen. While I can’t blame her for her moxie, self-employment is tough folks; I do have to marvel at her misguided notion that since predominately kinky folks attended the event we MUST need her services. Reminds me of Jay and Silent Bob cruising for dates in front of Planned Parenthood in the film Dogma.

When they asked if we might put on some music for the morning, we all debated. See, none of us listened to the radio station that was sponsoring the event. In fact we actively shunned that sound whenever possible. I wanted some old Judas Priest, Nerdy wanted the new Black Rebel Motorcycle Club and Griffin was voting for straight up Marylyn Manson. We settled on that spicy, tandori-flavored hip-hop from Bombay, Bhagara. You can imagine their looks when that came over the speakers.

Then there is the matter of the winch.

Whenever I do a public show amongst vanilla folks, there is always guaranteed to be one, that one person who really wants this. They might not have known this before, but you can see it in their eyes. They REALLY like the rope and want to try it. Who was this week’s convert? Why the chipper little promotions girl was the one. By the time I pulled my rope bag out and started explaining the process she was practically vibrating with anticipation.

First problem, the great winch was in my neighbor’s shop. Seems she was using it to actually move something heavy, how quaint! No worries, Griffin and I quickly recovered the beast and I used it to make a grand entrance (Photo is work safe, that is unless you happen to work for OSHA). I also had my video crew there working on another project so we decided to shoot some footage of the actual rigging. (So look for a “So what is it like to be a winch wench” video soon.)

The darling girl went up like a dream, you’re sure you have not done this before? A friend once described me when I rig as “a gleeful little bastard”. Now I suppose I could take offense at that description, but looking at these shots it is hard to argue. I just love what I do and besides, how can you not smile when a charming girl is beaming a smile like that back at you?

So big thanks to Liss for sharing this with us, thanks Numine for sharing your photos, thanks to the folks at Jimmy Dean and the radio station too. Of course, thanks to everyone who braved the cold and potental hardened arteries to join in the fun.

No, No I don’t really collect Hummel figurines

See it’s like this. Dancer and I have what we like to call, “A Switching Relationship”. Rather than take the classic SM roles of “Top” and “Bottom”, we tend to take turns and swap roles. This can take the form of one person crafting a complete scene and taking the reins all night or it can flow back and forth over the course of an evening as one gets a wicked idea in their heads and decides to act upon it. This is a good thing because I’m really not a very good bottom. In fact I sorta suck at it. Sure there are intense physical sensations that I enjoy, but that whole “yes mistress, no mistress” thing does not work for me. Now if I identified as a submissive or regularly bottomed, this might be a problem. Thankfully Dancer enjoys the fact that I’m not really a bottom.

So what the hell does this have to do with my supposed collecting of Hummel Figurines?

Well, you know when it is good? You know, your lover is doing something particularly evil and you encourage them to do more? How do you convey that? Sure I suppose you just say “please” or “green light” or even do the whole “Oh please mistress more!” routine. But not us. We tend to take the obnoxious route and say things like, “Oh is that the best you got?” or “What are you doing back there? Hitting me with a feather duster?” Of course having dated now for over 18 months, the insults have gotten a wee bit more … shall we say creative?

It is not uncommon to now hear the likes of,
“You call this bondage? You tie like Mr. Rogers! Where is your sweater?”
“Last time I checked, Fucker was not a safe word…”
Or my personal favorite, “Oh you’re not really such a bad ass are you? I bet you secretly collect Hummel figurines! Ohh look at the pretty bunnies and duckies!”

That one is pretty much guaranteed to make her laugh with delight and re-double her efforts to make me roar like a lion. Gotta love a gal who can laugh a rich warm, loving laugh and hurt you at the same time. I sure do.

Overheard at Matisse’s New Years Party

Party Guest: “Um, what is Monk wearing on his head?”
Mistress Matisse: “A fez”
Party Guest: slight pause “why is he wearing a fez?”
MM: “Its a thing he does”
Party Guest: ”Ok, but that does not explain why he has a doughnut tied to his wife?”
MM: “I’m afraid to ask.”

Truth be told, I did happen to be wearing my +1 fez of world domination while playing with my wife on New Years. See, a certain party guest wanted to ditch the whole “fetish wear look” for the evening and wear a ball gown and tiara for the evening. Now as a show of support, I offered to wear the fez if she wore the tiara. Sadly she chickened out, but not I. Oh no dear readers, not I. Upon donning the fez, my dear Tambo asked. “So… are you a good Shriner or an angry Shriner tonight?”
“Oh I’m good, very good tonight”

Now I am fairly certain that I do not have a fetish for silly hats (unlike what many of you are thinking right now), I do however enjoy wearing my fez when I play sometimes. Dress is like any other element of play. The costume you wear changes the tone of the act. Women seem to understand this fact better than men. From the stern looking dominatrix in her PVC cat suit to the little girl dressed in her pigtails and bows. What you wear is as much a part of the event as what tools you choose to use.

This was New Years and I wanted Tambo to laugh and scream. The fez, for me, sets a tone, a silly and sometimes surreal one to be exact. As for how Tambo ended up hanging sideways in rope with a fresh Krispy Kreme doughnut hanging off the extended middle finger that she was using to flip me off?

Well that, dear readers, is a tale for another day.