The "Pancake-O-Meter" of good play

I was in my early teens before I discovered the joys of central heating. See, back on the farm I grew up on we only used a mammoth wood stove to heat our home. I must have been 12 or 13 before I discovered that other people had these funny little boxes on the wall that you turned the dial and it got warmer. Back in those days, when my grandfather would come to visit, he would always make a huge fire. Overloaded with freshly split hunks of pine, the great wrought iron beast would roar till the top was just shy of glowing. In protest, we would always have to open the front door of the house to let in some cold air, save we all wither from the heat… or spontaneously burst into flame. My granddad always laughed at this, calling the front door, “the only measure of a good fire that really mattered”. Meaning that in his mind, it just was not a really good fire till you had to open the front door.

What the hell does this have to do with pancakes? Good question. A top can throw a good scene and enjoy the response they get from their bottom. Sure, you can enjoy the effect of whatever devious delight you are subjecting them to, but the really good scenes are the ones that when it is all said and done, when they are starting at you with a sort of dazed expression and a slightly off kilter smile, and they announce “god damn do I want pancakes now!”

That, that dear reader is the mark of true success.

Diner booths make for some excellent post care, sipping coffee and enjoying the late night feast of food that you would never think of eating when the sun was up. That stack of pancakes with a side of hash browns so large it threatens to engulf most of plate, is the best damn tasting food in the world. Smirk if you will, but there is something really gratifying about watching someone you just played with devour a meal with gusto and genuine hunger. Reminds you that what we do is physically intense and when done right, the hours feel like minutes and you end up throwing your entire self into the play till you are near exhaustion.

Of course you could say that this is just the ramblings of an egotistical top, smug in the knowledge that they wore their partner out.

This could be the case, if I did not know the power of pancakes first hand. See, I do switch on occasion. Recently during a much-needed lost weekend with my lover, Matisse, I returned to the land of bottoming after what had been a long, long time. Why so long you ask? A million reasons, none of them worth going into, but suffice to say I really, really needed to get my ass full and righteously kicked, hard. And kick it she did.

In the pre-dawn hours as we wandered into her kitchen, I was more stumbling in a daze really while she waltzed about with a wickedly satisfied grin, in search of post play nourishment. Sure we could go out, find some all night diner, maybe even a late night pizza.
“Pancakes, dude I must have pancakes..” Was all I could say.
Rifling through the cupboards till we found all the required components, even peanut butter (yes I am weird like that). I set about to make breakfast.

Let me just say, dear reader, that those were the best-damned tasting pancakes I have ever eaten. If god himself were to come down on high with a golden spatula and used unicorn milk in the batter, they would not come close. Yes, pancakes the perfect post scene food and the mark of really good play. How good you ask?
Well no sooner were the plates cleared when I, looking a bit more like a human, said to my lover, “You know that one thing you did with the thing…”
“Oh yeah, that was fun!” She responds with a wicked laugh.
“Let’s do that again.”
“Sure lover, anytime”
“How about now?”
“Oh really?”, she says raising an eyebrow, “perhaps we should leave the pancake mix out for later… just in case.”

Behold the power of pancakes, the only measure of a good scene that really matters.

Oh my, the bad personal adds!

Wow, I just got this via one of my spam catcher e-mail addresses. Seems this individual is looking for a special someone and thought that posting this on a Yahoo Group that specializes in bondage photography would net him a future mate. This one is just so bad, that I had to re-post it in all its un-edited glory.

“The kinkier the better.Maschoistic a plus. Strict Master seeks slave girl of ANY age between 18 and 55 who's only wish and desire is to serve a Master with all her heart and being. I will reward ur total devotion and obediance with loving kindness when such is warnted, harsh punishment when that, too, is deserved. I offer a sturctured lifestyle where every moment of ur day will be under my complete control. If u seek someone who will demand that u consult him even on something as simple a matter of what clothes u may wear each day, then I am whom u seek. ALL sex will be WITHOUT condoms. NO EXCEPTIONS!! U will eather enjoy, or learn to enjoy, anal sex and forced face fucking. U will show proper respect to ur Master at all times or be severly punished. Pierced a plus, but not required. Tits of any size, condition, shape welcome.

ALL REPLIES DIRECT TO MY E-MAIL ONLY!!!!”

So in other words, “Sadist, lacking a spell checker, seeks a female. Any female really, as long as they have boobs, for unprotected butt sex. Women with no spine, sense of self worth or personal ambition encouraged… as long as they have tits.” I’m not sure what makes me cringe worse here. The fact that some guy actually thinks that this tactic will find him a submissive partner or the poor soul who is thinking that this is what an SM dominant partner is supposed to be like?

Long overdue for an update.

I know, I know it is Monday and you are thinking, "great all Monk is going to is complain about how behind he is..."

Well
I'm behind, but no complaints today! See, the city shut off the gas
mains to the building in order to upgrade the service. No gas means no
dye jobs! So while I am now 3 dye jobs behind schedule and busting ass
to get caught up, I did manage to have some fun this weekend.

Now while I figure out how to properly tell some of these stories, enjoy a photo from my good friend Michele Serchuk. She just sent me more shots from the shoot she did of Alex and I.



While you do that, I need to come up with a coherent way to explain "The Pancake-o-meter scale of good play", "How I stopped fearing and started loving my partner's partners" and "The Tears of Blood Scene"

Swamped.
From the minute I stepped into the Abbey on Monday morning my world has been in overdrive. Seems that taking a weekend off, while great for my mental well-being, has found me way behind the 8-Ball as it were.

On the plus side, yesterday someone described me as "A cross between Willy Wonka and Darth Vader" So is that the new, John Depp Wonka or the old school Gene Wilder version? hmm... things to ponder while I tend to this batch of crimson.

Weekend.... um, what she said. Yeah.

Final resting place

And so, dear readers, my beloved and well-worn boots did find a final resting place. Taking a page from my grandmother’s inspired green thumb, a most wonderful reader offered to enshrine said boots in her garden.

Thank you, I’m a bit overcome by it. Filled with warm memories of my grandmother’s garden and touched that someone would take something as simple as a pair of my old boots and pay tribute to them so beautifully… well that is just pretty damned amazing.

UPDATE: The time listed is incorrect. The workshop is from 2-5!
Note: I'm not teaching this class nor am I vending at it, but I know the instructor. I have admired his skill for many years and consider him to be an excellent practitioner of the single tail whip.

"Whip Workshop In Seattle"
Beginning Through Advanced Whip Workshop
by Jonn Ireland
www.sensualwhipping.com

Have you ever heard a whip crack and wanted to learn how to add that sensual S & M technique to your repertoire? Have you ever wanted to meet a beginning or advanced Whip Top? Are you an experienced “Whipster” and want to learn advanced techniques? You will learn all of this and more when you attend this seminar.

Whip scenes can vary in intensity from gentle stroking to fiery rain or painful, red welted stripes, depending on the intent and skill of the Top and the interests and limits of the bottom. Every scene you do can have an intensity rating of ten, whether the whip is used for gentle brushing or as a hard crack which cuts the skin and a deeply powerful connection between the Top and bottom can occur at every single level. This is a “hands on”, comprehensive class from A to Z, with something for everyone. Bring your whips or borrow one of mine because we will learn and practice the following techniques in class:

• Whip Safety for Top and bottom
• Practice for accuracy and technique
• Types of whips used in BDSM scenes
• How whips are made
• How to break in and condition a whip
• Using a Bullwhip for wraps and hard strikes to add spice to your scene
• Several different ways to throw a Signal Whip
• Advanced areas to strike the body
• Positions to use in a scene when you don’t have a rack or a cross
• Techniques for limited space (like a bedroom)
• Bondage and whips
• Two whips at once using 9 and 3, cross cracking and Florentine
• How to create and structure a whip scene

Please Note: We are making a video of the class and of the whip scenes that I will do after the class. If you do not want to be seen in the video, please let us know in advance and we will seat you in a special section.

The Workshop is on Saturday, June 16th from 3:00 P.M. to 5:00 P.M. at the WetSpot www.wetspot.org in Seattle. I would like as many people as possible to attend this intense and dynamic Workshop so I am setting the price at $20.00 per person.

UPDATE: The time listed is incorrect. The workshop is from 2-5!

June's Color of the Month

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.

We made this color in early May and chose to sit on releasing it. With the mad dash that was the preparations for Shibaricon, we opted to take a month off from releasing a new color till after we returned. Let me tell you, the rope almost did not make it to you. On several occasions I (or others who visited the shop) tried to make it theirs.

This is a great, rich red color. Closer to a brick red than our standard crimson (that has more orange tones in it). A color that could best be described as "Strawberry Red"

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

Busy!
June is supposed to be my slow month, you know post Shibaricon chill month. Not the case! Time for me to see about hiring more shop help to keep up with all the new orders.

Yesterday Matisse posted about how she and I will be taking a vacation together. I'm so looking forward to my first real vacation in what seems like forever. Of course this also means I'm going to need to ramp up production so that we have enough stock on hand to keep the crew busy while I'm gone. No matter how big we get, there are still parts of the process that only I do. Every piece of rope that leaves the Abbey is still run through my hands. Can't just shut down the shop and not pay my people while I lay on a beach somewhere. So rather than a "Pre-whatevercon death-march" I guess it will be a "Pre-goddamn I'm taking a vacation death-march"

In other news, it looks like I will be vending at the Boston Summer Flea. We had so much fun at the winter event, we just had to come back for more. Stay tuned for more info on that one.

Oh and I bought a motorcycle! I'm now the proud owner of a 73 BWM R75/5. The chrome "toaster" tank is what sold me. I just love the look of vintage bikes. It needs a bit of work, you know been sitting for a few too many months, but I should have it up and on the road in a couple of weeks. Just in time to re-take an advanced road saftey course. Need to refresh some skills.

Broken PT2

Critical hardware failure is not a pretty thing, experienced players do everything in their power to plan for such things. However a brand new piece of equipment breaking on the very first night of play? Well that just sucked out loud. Now I would like to take credit as an experienced top and skillfully getting my bottom down and free from the failed frame before anything bad happened, but it was Ayem who calmly stated to me, after said crack, “Um, that’s not good. Shall I come down now?”

Thankfully, we were using a minimal amount of rope, so he was free and clear in a matter of seconds.
Upon inspection of the frame, it was obvious that we had in fact broken the main support struts and damaged it beyond repair. I may have lasted another 10 minutes, 20 tops, but for certain this unit was down for the remainder of the convention. Way to go Monk, the event sponsor kills a hard point on the first night.
Despondent, Ayem looked at me with a large pouting lip and hung dog expression. “Great, I broke the new toy, now I won’t get to play anymore.”
“Fuck that, I aint done with you!”
Tossing him to the ground and firmly tying him into a small, laughing ball. I set about to find something suitable to use to continue the scene. All the suspension frames were in use and I was not about to go and see if I could break another one. Then, inspiration hit. Strewn on the floor of the play space were a number of small tie down mats. These are basically large padded seats with tie points bolted into the sides; they would make an excellent tool.

I was not planning on tying him to said bondage furniture; no I was planning on hitting him with it.

The foam padded seat made an excellent impact toy as I wielded it above my head and brought it down on his ass. A satisfying “whump” sound really. Followed of course by howls of laughter. That sick monkey was enjoying this way too much. Time to show him exactly what tea bagging was.

Rolling our victim up into a sitting position, I grab the back of his head and straddle up close. “See buddy, its like this” I say with a much malice as I can muster between giggles, “Tea bagging is when you take your junk and rub them on someone’s head, like so…” pulling his shaved dome closer, I make exaggerated thrusting motions with my hips and rub the crotch of my jeans into his forehead.

“But why is it called tea bagging if you are just rubbing your jeans against me?” He asks in his goading way.

Let me pause for just a moment, over the course of the last 3 years, it has become a sort of tradition that I end up naked in public. Well not naked really, just my junk. Yep, for whatever reason it is just not a Shibaricon with out Monk pulling out his genitals and doing something silly with them. I blame my buddy Scott for this, but that is another story.

Shrug, what can I do? He had me there. Un buttoning the front of my pants, I pull out my boy bits and comically slap them against the top of his head. Laughter erupts from over my shoulder. Seems that folks were watching things unfold and the sudden flash of skin caught them, shall we say off guard? No, lets not. The truth of the matter was that there was a line of girls watching two hot, sweaty boys wrestle around and now they were laughing their asses off as I comically used my good friend’s shaved head to scratch a non existent itch on my balls.

You would think that getting tied up in hot pink rope and having a dude rest his junk on your head would be enough for somebody, but no. This just made the crazy fucker laugh louder.

It took me doing (post pants re-zipping mind you) one-handed push-ups, fist resting squarely in the meat of his pectoral muscle, for him to finally tap out. Of course I made the mistake of gloating after we were done, proud in the fact that I had made Ayem, a notoriously energetic soul, exhausted. “Oh yeah, I broke the energizer bunny” I think was what I said… and what happens, like the terminator, he somehow reassembles his bruised self and bounces back up and smiles that silly grin of his at me.

Un freaking believable.

Later that night he would take part in a group suspension and single tailing at the hands of my lover, Matisse.

New Exotic Rope

I’m always on the hunt for cool new ropes to offer as part of our “exotic” line. Folks really love our previous finds like the German 4 strand or Handmade Silk. At this year’s Shibaricon, we introduced a rope that we are calling “White Linen Hemp”

So why would someone want to add this rope to their toybag? Right out of the package it is soft, soft like a cotton cord or our raw silk. However unlike cotton, it has all the knot holding properties of hemp. It also does not burn skin like cotton or nylon when you run it though itself, rather it also has that “vibration” that hemp is famous for. Next cool thing, the rope does not need to be oiled after washing, making care a snap. This makes it great for use in play where your rope will get messy (read CBT and other such types of play. Matisse has been road testing this stuff for weeks with her clients and loves it.) Toss it into the wash, hang dry and use it again.

I play with every rope we sell, well not every rope but rather I test out all the ropes we plan to carry. If I don’t want it in my toybag, I’m not going to sell it. So what about the this new rope?
I’m not a fan of it for general body ties, while my test subjects liked the feel against skin, it was just too thin for my tastes. Suspension? No way in hell. The linen fibers are too thin and weak. I did a test hang with it on myself, and it stood up to the test, but I would advise against it. Now crotch ropes? Nice, very nice. Again, highly washable makes for easy care and re-cleaning.

Where does it really shine? Face bondage. Like, wow this shit is AMAZING. Take a look for yourself.


The softer fiber makes for fewer “hot spots” on the face where the knots may lay against pressure points, the slightly more stretchy nature of the linen gives the subject the ability to shift if things become uncomfortable, and the rope feels great against the skin. All the qualities of a soft cotton or parachute cord coupled with the qualities of a high-end hemp rope. What is not to love?
You can get some for yourself by ordering it here. Or order a sample pack and we will send you 6 inch samples of all our ropes.

Like, totaly stolen from Hannah...
Yet oddly on the mark, save for me wanting to go more Godzilla style.

'What will your obituary say?' at QuizGalaxy.com

In other self indulgent news, the vacation plans are coming along nicely. Of course being self employeed means that we don't bank paid days off, so I'll need to re-build our depleted stock levels in order to keep the crew busy while I'm gone. Not impossible, just means a few more long days. Also, I think I may have located the perfect vintage motorcycle... stay tuned.

Tambo and I love movies. Escaping the real world and hiding out in a darkened theater is just about the perfect way to spend a rainy (or sweltering) Seattle afternoon. Especially if you are supposed to be at work. We do however have different tastes when it comes to film. Normally we swap as to who gets to pick the movie, but in light of the pre-shibaricon deathmarch and me being generally a walking rope making machine for the past 6 weeks, I’ve been indulging her every cinematic whim.

Ouch, the things we do for the people we love.

Let me recap, Pirates of the Caribbean 3? Sucked ass through a straw. Too many characters, too much cgi and a plot that felt like every morning the director would come onto the set and wave about a napkin covered in crayon scribbles and announce that this was to be the day’s new shooting script.

Spiderman 3? Ouch. I love the director Sam Rami. Really I do. I think the man is a visual genius and have loved his work since Evil Dead (I even supported him when he did For The Love of the Game, thank you) but damn, dude what happened? Your visual flair looks like it was swiped off a Playstation? And Venom? Oh man, don’t get me started… I don’t even like the Spiderman mythology that much and I’m offended.

I think her next pick will be The Transformers movie… shudder. (To her defense she does pick some great ones too, but she has a weak spot for the summer blockbuster)

If nothing else, even a bad movie with someone you love is time well spent. We usually spend at least the length of the film having a fantastic time trashing it over coffee afterwards.

Broken

This tale requires a bit of back-story in order to be fully enjoyed. I have a friend named Ayen Willing, I often refer to him as “My Personal Stalker”. A good natured soul who no matter where in the country I am, shows up at events and offers to help out. Over the years Ayem has become part of the extended Abby family, often providing critical support at shows. It was at Folsom last year, when acting as my “Booth Candy” and strutting his well toned stuff for all they boys to drool over, that we first started joking about playing. Not a rope demo, but rather a good old fashioned rope based smack down. Seems he liked the way I throw a punch.

Fast forward to this year’s Shibaricon.

As we set about unloading the multiple crates of stock, show should show up with a huge grin and an offer of assistance? You guessed it, our old friend Ayem. However this time, there was something different about him. His normally short, boyish hair was gone. Replaced by a smoothly shaven dome. I had to do a double take and make sure that this was, in fact our friend and not some hairless impostor.
The first words out of my mouth after the round of hugs? “Dude, you have no hair. I totally want to tea bag you.”

It would be later the next evening, in the dungeon when Ayem took me aside to ask. “So at the risk of sounding naïve, what exactly is tea bagging anyways?”
“Well, old chum, this is something best explained by example. What’s on your dance card tonight?”

After some quick negotiation, we set out to find a hard point. As luck would have it, the one point I really wanted to try out was just coming free. Now this toy was dubbed “the claw” due to it’s unique shape. A free standing, three legged suspension frame, each leg was made up of multiple short struts that formed a sort of octagonal shape. So it looked a lot like one of those claws you might see in an arcade where you try and snatch up a stuffed toy. The thing was a huge, wooden structure and part of its appeal was that a person could easily move around inside the frame. Most tripod frames are so narrow that they only offer a limited range of movement and for me; movement and bondage go hand in hand.

So we set about for a good old-fashioned beat down. Now Ayem is a healthy young buck of a man, about my age, fit, tan and capable of taking a hell of a pounding. Good thing, it had been a long and stressful day and I was itching for an outlet. With balled up fists and a pile of hot pink rope I set about binding and generally smacking the snot out of the boy’s chest, back and ass. With every blow I was greeted with his trademark cackle of joy and with every loop of rope that went around him, he would further taunt me with. “I thought we were going to do some bondage tonight Monk.”
Oh this was such fun. Bio boys are a unique and delightful challenge to play with. Mechanically the way you tie is different. Lacking certain, um shall we say “terrain features” that girls have, your harnesses need to be different, their center of gravity is different and the best part, you can hit them really hard.

And hit him I did.

My plan was to tie him up and hang him from his side inside the frame while generally being a sadistic monkey and smacking him about in the process. Laughing and sweating, I swung him from side to side as he made halfhearted attempts to doge my blows and egg me on for me. All in all, riotous fun was had, however the suspension frame did not seem to agree with us. Seems the movement of two large men in opposing directions was not in the original design spec. So as I tossed Ayem one-way, the frame would counter twist in the opposite direction. Now add to this that we are in constant motion, back and forth and well… well as I moved to pull his legs out from underneath him with a dramatic lunge, we were rewarded with a sudden, single crack of wood failing.

Huston, we have a problem.

I’ve written too much for one night and really must get to bed, I’ll continue this tale later.

“You get a lot of chicks with this bondage thing?”
I had to blink twice to mask my surprise at the question. I get asked lots of questions, but this was a first. He seemed sincere enough, standing there at the Bondage is the Point party.
“Well,” Pausing to collect my thoughts, I lean protectively against the cage where my wife was bundled into a tiny ball of straight jacket and hood, blissfully tuning out the world, and glance across the room at my other partner who pauses mid conversation to flash me her warm smile, then to the young girl waiting eagerly at the edge of the party, before the night is done she will be naked, hanging from the ceiling in my rope, and finally to rest back on the man asking me the question. “Sorta, I guess”

Now I’d love to say that being good at rope will score you more attention from the fairer sex than you will ever want for. No, that would be false advertising. Attraction is based on a myriad of factors, things like personal charisma, confidence, good hygiene, and sought after skills... like rope. Yes, being good with rope is a sought after skill. Chicks do dig guys who can tie and tie well. Now while I can’t do much to help out in the charisma or confidence arenas, I can give you the hook up when it comes to rope skills.

Max is teaching another one of his amazing Fundamentals of Rope Bondage classes this Sunday at the Wetspot in Seattle. For folks just getting into rope, this is an excellent opportunity to gain some new skills in a safe, fun environment. I’ve sat through a LOT of rope 101 classes in this job and Max is hands down one of the best teachers in the game. Don’t miss this class, he is taking the summer off and your next chance to take this class will be in October.

For more info check out Max’s website.