Have it your way?

Pardon me while I take deep breath and enjoy this, the calm before the storm. The next 4 days are going to be *quite* jam packed. Lemme see, Friday night is Midori's "Bang 4 th Buck" party. Yeah, I know it is only for girls, but the company is still helping sponsor the event and thanks to all of you who bought our last color of the month, Unity, we will be donating a rather nice hunk of cash to the cause. All the female members of the TM family are gearing up to attend, wave the flag, give away a ton of schwag and have lots of fun.

Saturday is the big SEAF gala

Oh and Midori is in town teaching a butt load of classes.

In between all of this, I'm shooting 2 video blogs, posing and rigging for 2 photo shoots with one of my all time favorite photographers, and shooting 6 (count em, SIX) new how to videos.

So while I marshal my mojo for what is sure to be a wild couple of days I still have rope to make.

One of the new batches that I want to show off next week will be another "twisted color", you all seem to really like them so I guess I should keep making them. However it occurred to me that instead of just offering a bulk hunk of rope up for auction perhaps I should cut it down, whip the ends and offer it as a more complete "kit"?

I'll admit that I'm torn on this, so I thought I would ask you what you thought.




Ok, I need to get my ass in gear today and make things happen. Oh and thanks for all the great ideas for costumes. I think I have some leads on a few hot ones and of course I will share photos when the time is right.

Reader Porn

This yummy creature would be Merrick she likes rope, a lot. As part of my New Years resolution to do more art rigging, it looks like I will have the distinct pleasure of working with this delightful girl next month. Yeah, I know it sucks to be me. As a teaser, she sent along some shots of herself enjoying both the rope as well as the twistedmonk.com clothing.



Now as much as I love to see my logo stretched across the hip of some sweet tied up girl, I gotta admit that seeing it in a crumpled pile at the ankles of a tied up girl… way hot. I believe she has more from this set on her site, naughtymerrick.com

A little help here?

And so dear readers, I find myself in a bit of a pickle and need some advice. One of my favorite patrons recently asked if the next time we played we could do an interrogation scene. Now, interrogation scenes are always one of my favorite games to play.

The thing about a scene like this, in my experience, is that they require 3 key elements to make them unforgettable. Location, chemistry and costume.

I have an excellent location (complete with a holding cell) to deliver the scene, so that part is easy. Chemistry, as with any scene that involves a lot of role play the need for good play chemistry is key. Both parties must "want" to buy into the fantasy. Again, not a problem. In fact I'm quite honored that the victim in question asked me to do this, hence my last quandary.

The costume...

Normally I'd dust off my vintage cop uniform, pictured here at Folsom, but this one has gotten a lot of use and I don't really have a good follow up to it. (Matisse teases me that I should just move down the line and pick either the Indian chief or the construction worker next) Sure, I could don my regular "uniform" of tall boots, BDUs and tank top. While idea for when I want to open up the taps and kick someone's ass, this is not ideal for projecting that certain authoritative menace. My tastes tend to run to the vintage and obscure so your basic LAPD cop garb is really not my style.

So this would be me, asking you... what sort of uniforms turn you on?

The day I met Boris.

This morning, as I fired up the cantankerous, vintage Russian motorcycle I call “Boris”*, it occurred to me that I have yet to tell the tale of how I came to be the owner of a big, black side car equipped motorcycle.

It was the dawn of the new millennium and I, like most of my tech savvy peers, were making way too much money in this thing they dubbed, “the digital economy”. Printing money from thin air, if you could spell HTML some high tech start up would hire you, offer you an outrageous salary and promise you stock options, riches like you would not believe. Sites (many now long dead) were turning twenty-somethings into millionaires overnight and in the middle of all this madness, your humble narrator was smack dab in the middle and about to turn the bit THREE OH.

I figured I would reward myself, most of my friends at the time were buying sailboats, luxury SUVs and townhouses downtown, so why not? I’ve always wanted a BIG Harley as long as I can remember. Something about those big, black beasts that makes my spine tingle. I figured I deserved it. Up to this point, Tambo and I had always lived simply, still in that “starving college student” mindset, we shied away from converting our new found, post college wealth into big cars and such, opting rather to stash it away in case of a rainy day.

So after a quick call to our bank, an overly enthusiastic banker handed me a letter that said, in effect, “This man can write a check for any motorcycle he wants up to 25K and we guarantee that it will be good” After doing some research, I knew just what I wanted. Make, model, and color… this bad boy was not gonna be cheap either. One Friday, a week before my birthday, Tambo and I escaped work early and went done to the local dealership and were promptly ignored.

Yep, there we stood, with letter of guaranteed funds in hand and we could not get the time of day from any of the staff. After nearly accosting a sales person with threats of bodily harm, I explained what I was looking for and was told, get this, “sorry you can’t have that” Jaws agape, we stared at this man as he calmly explained that no, IF we wanted to drop over 20K today, we would have to pick a model from what they have enroute from the factory, that is IF there were any we liked and MAYBE we would get said substitute bike by Christmas.

I don’t know about the rest of you, but regardless of how much money a person spends, customer service goes a long way and if that somebody is about to drop tens of thousands of dollars, said customer service better damn well not include the word “no”

Disgusted, we left the dealership never to return. “I wanna ride a motorcycle, not a bandwagon” I told them as I left. Tambo, the ever calm one, asked me “well, are there any other makes you had your eye on?”
Well… there are these crazy retro bikes made in Russia that come with sidecars…

A few calls later and we had a date to go try one out. The nearest dealership was almost 2 hours drive away so Tambo and I made a day of it. Packed our riding gear up and headed out to what turned out to be a converted barn on the edge of where urban sprawl met farmland. The dealer? A smiling old guy who had not one, not two but three bikes sitting, warmed up and waiting for me. I’ve ridden sidecar bikes before so after a quick lesson on some of the specifics of these models, Tambo and I piled into one and took off in the direction he recommended.

“Lots of pretty pastures out that way..” he waved.

The bike did not roar and throb, rather it sounded like a rather large sewing machine as we hummed along the country road. Sure it was black and had some cool retro chrome, it was far from a big beast of a machine. That and there was this sound I kept hearing as we passed bemused looking cattle grazing in the sun. It was the sound of laughter. Tambo and I were laughing like a couple of giddy school kids as we roared down the open road together. Pulling over and removing our helmets we both had what must have been the biggest, goofiest grins on our faces.

I wanted one, but with a few additions. Upon returning, said requested additions were met with “sure, no problem. How does next week work for you?” and a price tag that was shockingly less than I was expecting to pay.

Next week, being my birthday was met with some technical crisis that forced both Tambo and I to log unimaginable hours at work. Not only would it look like I would be forced to work on my birthday, but I would not be getting to make the trip out to the dealership that week to pick-up my shiny new bike. “Not a problem” said the dealer, and what do you think he did? He puts the bike on a truck, makes the 2 hour trek and delivered the bike to my office on my birthday.

Today, Boris sits just outside where I type this. The years, they have started to take their toll on the old boy. His chrome is not so shiny and the tell tale spots of rust are beginning to show, but I still get that stupid grin every time I throw a leg over and fire up the old beast.

That cantankerous old sob still makes Tambo and I laugh like school kids every time.

*In Russia it is customary to name vehicles; ships etc with masculine identities, as opposed to the west were we tend to refer to them in the feminine form. The name “Boris” came to me because in my mind the bike would talk like a rotund cab driver, jovial but nobody’s fool. “Boris have one speed, Boris’ speed. If Boris want to go up hill fast, we go fast but don’t push it babushka”

Nu Media.
Not much to say today, crazy ass busy this week with other, not very interesting projects. I do have some hot photos for you later, so stay tuned for that. In the meantime Matisse has another podcast up, featuring yours truly. I'm scrambling to book some studio time this week as well so if you have questions that you would like to hear us answer, fire away.

This one is for all the SF and Bay Area readers.

Max, probably one of the best bondage instructors out there and the guy who taught me my first two column tie, is taking his 2 Day Intensive on the road.

• What: Max's Two-Day Bondage Intensive - Bondage Basics through Suspension
• When: March 22 - 23, 2008
• Where: Taught at Edges in Santa Clara, California
• How To Attend: Details and online registration at www.BondageLessons.com

Don't delay, cutoff for Early Bird registration is February 20th and final registration cutoff is March 17th

What, no porn? Nope, instead it is time for another installment of the video blog. Enjoy!

Happy Birthday Graydancer!
We are long overdue to share the whiskey and tales, bro.

While working late at the Abbey last night on the next video blog I took a break and wandered out into the loading docks to find this. A random blown glass heart hung on one of the walls.

February's Color of the Month and Midori/ALC Fundraiser, "Unity"
February marks Midori's annual "Bang 4 the Buck" fundraiser for The Aids/LifeCycle. Last year we were proud to help sponsor the event and launched a custom color of the month to help raise funds for the cause. Last year's "Lifeline" was a huge success, selling out in less than 36 hours.

This year we are doing it again.

Starting again with our ultra premium German 4 strand rope and slow dying it till we got a deep, royal blue and dubbing it, "Unity". Why unity? Just as rope binds a person, a couple and a community together we are all bound together in our common goal to work together against Aids.

Twistedmonk.com will donate the profits from sale of this rope to The Aids/LifeCycle.

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

UPDATE 02/15/08 9:38AM: We are sold out!

A reader's pressing question.

Hola :)
Husband and I are just starting (rather belatedly, I think *sigh*) to explore bondage as a Fun Thing with me as the bound, and I'm having a wee problem with...well...wee. As in, the persistent and distracting need to pee almost as soon as I am secured to something. Doesn't seem to matter if I peed ten times the hour before, and not had anything to drink...I always feel like I need to once I'm tied. Which is a little strange to me, given the fact that I'm the girl who used to drive for 12 hours …There are a couple of contributing factors that I can identify...1) Husband is a beginner and not very quick at tying me down, so it takes a while for us to get to the actual "playing" part; 2) I'm pushing 40 and have birthed 2 kids and the girl bits aren't quite as, um, taut as they used to be (though I don't have any pelvic floor problems any other time, and actually exercise those muscles regularly); 3) I drink tons of water all day …Still, I suspect it's more a psychological thing than physiological, and I'm wondering if there are any suggestions from the bondage community on dealing with it.

C
PS "Just pee" isn't really an option.. thought of it, but don't think that either of us would find that the least bit appealing.,,,

Well you may be asking the wrong guy this question. I’m one of those sick bastards who rather enjoys it when she starts to squirm and has been known sit back and laugh as she fidgets and swears at me to untie her so she can go pee, only to pick her up bodily and tie her down to the toilet.

Yes, I am a bastard and I’m going straight to hell, thank you drive thru.

However I did ask a number of my female friends in the bondage community for their thoughts on the matter and they all seemed to fall into two camps. The physical ones who all said, “Kegelcisor” apparently this will help strengthen those muscles and not only give better bladder control, but also as an added benefit reward you with some killer orgasms as well.

The psychological camp weighed in and suggested a number of things. First and foremost are you confusing arousal and excitement with the urge to pee? The anticipation, the adrenaline and such all sending mixed signals that you are interpreting as the need to go. When he does finally untie you and you go, is it a lot or just a little? Others suggested that this was much like the having your nose itch as soon as you have frosting covering both hands and the best way to deal with it is to just breathe through it and focus on relaxing. Heck. One pointed out that she too experienced this, but after learning to relax and go with it, the resulting orgasms were much more intense.


So there you have it, you are not alone in what you are experiencing and no matter what advice you choose to take they both seem to have “better orgasm” as a side benefit.

Now not having the appropriate hardware, I can’t give you my opinion on the matter, but rather here are some thoughts from the top’s perspective on how you might address this in play with out having it kill the flow of your scene. First thought would be to use modular bondage, rather than one long piece of rope use several short ones. That way if you do need to go, he only needs to untie specific parts of the bondage. My next thought would be to incorporate this into the play, "I’ll only untie you and let you go after you (insert evil act here) for me." Heck, all else fails bondage in the bathroom can be pretty damned hot, those hand rails on “accessible” bathrooms makes awesome tie down points.. not that I would know anything about that, officer.

As for the “just pee” option, ya never know you say that it is not erotic to you, but ya never know till you try… but that is a topic for another day.

Who wants some custom rope?

I'm offering up some one of a kind rope again on e-bay. The first off is a blast from the past. Who remembers our "Exotic Italian Cashmere" rope?

This was the very first exotic we offered, a very unique rope made by this funky little operation in Rome. This was the rope we offered to folks who complained that "regular" hemp rope was just too soft, they wanted something with some "teeth". We would hand them this stuff and watch them giggle with evil glee. See, the rope is deceptive. Stroke it one direction and it feels fuzzy and soft, stroke it the other and the rope has a very wicked set of "teeth" to it. Not skin ripping, but just scratchy enough to remind a person that they are in rope... every time they breathe. Another wickedly cool feature of this stuff was that due to the feel of the rope, it held knots like velcro. Sadly the maker of this rope is no more. I've managed to find one last block of the stuff and am offering up the entire lot here as one finished kit. The last of its kind.

This week's other offering is a bulk piece, 94ft to be exact, of 6MM hemp in a wild twist of colors.


I started out with a base coat of our Statutory Grape and then went a little nuts. The result is strong burgundy color with blue and violet highlights. As with all my custom mix color runs, this is a one of a kind mix and I could not reproduce it if I tried. The winning bidder can have the rope cut down and whipped for a small extra fee if they so desire.

Happy Bidding!

Caroline

The sweat ran down Caroline’s breast in rivulets as I dragged her head back by the hair and pressed the keen point of the knife to her nipple.

“This is why you’re here, isn’t it?” I whispered, my mouth close to her ear as I watched the blade press against her flesh. “This is what you need from me.”

“Yes,” she moaned, and pressed her breast up to meet steel.

Her first email had been tentative, even shy. One of my regular clients was a friend of hers, she explained in carefully worded, polite phrases, and they’d got to talking one evening over a bottle of wine, as girlfriends do. And well, she thought she might be interested in engaging my services.

Over dinner in a quiet little bistro she explained in halting tones what she wanted from our time together. Her husband was a wonderful man, she explained. A loving father to their two young children, supportive of her choice to go back to school and get her nursing degree. She loved him, she told me as she pushed a dark curl behind her ear in what I would come to recognize as a nervous gesture, and would never consider leaving him. But there were things – dark desires and forbidden needs – that she could not ask him for.

That’s where I come in.

I dragged the dull edge of the blade along the plump curve of her breast, careful to keep from marking her milk pale skin. She trusted me not to leave marks, as they would invite questions from friends and family she wasn’t prepared to answer, so I had to offer the pain and humiliation she craved without violating that trust.

I tossed the knife aside, the clatter of steel on the concrete floor making her jump, then squeal when she came up short against my fist in her hair.

“What do you need from me, Caroline?” I whispered.

“You know,” she whined, then gasped as I gripped her hair harder.

“You have to tell me,” I reminded her, and allowed myself a small, fierce grin as she writhed in discomfort at the thought. “You have to tell me or I’ll have to draw my own conclusions.”

I pressed against her, pushing her body down into the floor even as I dragged her head up, my free hand coming up to loosely circle her throat. I felt her swallow convulsively against my palm, felt her strain to push her neck in to my hold.

“Do you want me to make love to you, Caroline?” I whispered. “To caress you gently, kiss you softly? Do you want me to sing you romantic songs, spread rose petals at your feet?”
Her eyes were open now, shock and dismay reflected in their amber depths as she listened. “No,” she moaned, shaking her head reflexively despite my hold on her hair.

“No?” I asked. “Then why are you here? Tell me why you’re here, Caroline.”

She wet her lips. “I need you to hurt me.”

“Very good,” I said, and twisted my fist harder in her hair as a reward. “What else?” I asked over the echo of her grateful moan.

The words came faster now, all but spilling out of her. “Abuse me, humiliate me, make me your slut.”

“Is that what you want to be, Caroline?” I asked, and pressed on her throat with the slightest of pressure.

She nodded. “Yes, yes,” she panted, her eyes now heavy with desire and anticipated satisfaction. “Yes, please, make me your slut, your whore. I’ll do anything,” she promised.

“Yes,” I told her, “you will.”

For the next hour I set about destroying Caroline the wife, mother, nursing student and dutiful daughter of doting parents. Gone was the dark glossy hair, perfectly coiffed and pulled neatly back into a curly pony tail. Gone was the make-up meticulously applied, the expensive perfume’s subtle scent, the prim and proper slacks and blouse she arrived in.

In her place I built a pain slut, a wanton mass of sweaty, quivering flesh sprawled naked on a concrete floor. A woman reduced to the flesh between her legs, the needs that screamed through her body, needs she’d do anything to fulfill.

And fulfill them I did. When Caroline walked out of my office and back into her life, her hair and makeup were perfect, her perfume reapplied, her slacks and blouse in the same meticulous condition as they were when she arrived a scant few hours before.

And if she walked a little slower, and winced a bit when brushing her hair that night, only she and I knew the reason why.

Ok kids, get out your day timers!

So what cool things are going on this week in Monkland?

Well let me see, first and foremost let me tell you about a new series of classes that are being offered at The Center for Sex Positive Culture in Seattle (formerly “The Wetspot) by Max (bondagelessons.com) and Russell (Flirts Inc.) called “Topping to the Next Level”
This is a 4 part series of classes aimed at going beyond the “how to perform a task” and into “how to use what you know to create hot scenes”. Both Max and Russell bring years of experience to the table and are both tops that I deeply respect and have learned a great deal from over the years. I am looking forward to seeing more of this series.

The first class is this Sunday, 2/10/08 “Techniques for Thoughtful Tops”

Next up?
Midori is doing it again. Last year Twistedmonk.com were proud to help sponsor Midori’s Bang 4 the Buck fund raisers as well as release a custom color of the month to help raise funds for The Aids Lifecycle. Remember how fast “lifeline” went last year? Well this year we are doing it again. Watch the blog for details, as always I will announce it here first.

Last but certainly not least, a big happy birthday to my good friend and sometimes victim, Ayem Willing. You are one of a kind buddy, I’m honored to call you my friend.

Now I was going to blog about upcoming events and the next color of the month... but then that hot little Canadian sex-bomb, RedSneaker, sent me this image and this link to something she just posted in her her always tasty journal.

Damn...


Double damn... so much for getting any work done today!


As some of you may recall, Red and I have one of those relationships where we get to play maybe once every 8 months and when we do, it is a go till dawn and the cops are called sort of thing. My calendar tells me that she is due for another visit soon.

My first time

Music plays a huge part in the day to day ebb and flow of life at the Abbey. Finding the right mix of tunes that will keep the crew motivated as well as not cause a riot can be challenging at times. Thankfully we have a pretty vast collection of music to draw from and everyone gets to have a say in what is played through out the course of the day. Sometimes that say is something along the lines of, “WTF?!” but most of the time, especially when we break out the older rock, it is “Oh man, I remember the first time I ever heard this song…”

The other day, as we rocked out The Cars, it was my turn to tell the “my first time” story.

See my dad worked in the insurance industry and had this skill for getting cars that, while they had been in an accident and were technically “un-salvageable”, however an enterprising sort (my dad) with a come along, a few strategically located tree and some creative use of a two by four could straighten the frame and make said “total loss” into “great for first time driver”. That is how my brother got his 67 Dodge Dart. At 17 he was in need of a good car to get him from the farm to his various school related responsibilities and being a pretty solid hunk of Detroit steel it should keep him out of most trouble. Most, this is MY brother we are talking about, but I digress. What is the first thing he puts in his new chariot? Why a brand spanking new 8-track tape player. Did I mention this was the late 70’s? Anyways, stealing the cabinet speakers from an old stereo found at good will, he wedged them ,faux wooden cases and all, into the back windows and managed to get a pretty good sound, that is I think it was the bass and not the re-bent frame slamming against the chassis as he thundered down the back country roads outside of rural Spokane listening to The Cars doing “Let the Good Times Roll”.

Back then seat belts were a sort of after thought, a novelty item like a hula girl air freshener or fuzzy dice. Besides, seat belts in the back seat would get in the way of what a back seat was designed for, a mobile bedroom for horny teenagers… and where your screaming, terrified younger brother would clutch madly at any available handhold as he slid about on the slippery vinyl bench seat all the while said older brother pressed one foot down on the gas, had one knee pressed against the steering wheel for control, arms flailing in time to the drum solo and doing his best to not hit any stray livestock that might happen onto the road.

Anyone want a cool Valentines Day gift?

Remember those cool wood box combos we offered over Christmas? I'm sitting here with the very last one in my hands. A customer ordered one in red, added an extra 15' in of 6MM and 5' of 4MM and then had the nerve to try and use a bad credit card to pay for it. Hell has a special place for those who try to stiff small business owners.

Now I could easily redistribute the stock to fill existing orders, but it sorta seems a shame. The whole thing is all nicely wrapped and sealed, just ready for a shipping label in fact. Seems like it could make for a cool valentines day gift for some happy rope fan. So tell ya what, the first one who contacts me can have it for 125.00 (that includes domestic shipping).

Like I said, I have ONE left and no immediate plans to offer this style box again in the near future.

UPDATE: The box (and its contents) have sold.