Monk's Week Off Blog Project, Final Day

And so we bring this week to a close with Dancer, my secondary partner's, take on the shape of the world.

What’s changed for Monk and I since December 2004? A lot of things, but they’re more noticeable to he and I than to the outside observer. Take Christmas. Monk and I had our first anniversary in June, so this is our second Christmas as partners. Last year, I spent Christmas visiting my family in Georgia, and my beloved primary partner went with me. I was happy to be there with him, but I found I really missed Monk. Not even just his company, but – the fact of his existence.
My family did sort of know, in a vague way, that I was poly. But I was still at the place where I hadn’t really explained that I actually had another partner. I would casually mention “my friend Monk” to my family, but I wasn’t going into detail about the fact that he was more to me than a friend. It hadn’t seemed crucial at first. But I found I really didn’t like it. Monk and I had recently started saying “I love you” to each other, and not sharing this really loving, happy thing in my life, especially with my mom, felt constricting.
This year, my mom and my brother and his girlfriend came here to visit me, and I decided I was going to tell them, “So, you know that poly thing? I actually have another partner, too, and I want all of you to meet him.”
So I did, and actually, it turned out just fine. My brother’s GF asked me a few perfectly polite questions about how we structured our secondary relationships. Monk met us at a restaurant and had dinner with all of us while Sir (my primary) was off doing something else, and it was fine. No drama, no fuss, everyone said he was great. What they really think of the whole situation, I don’t know. But you know, as long as they’re nice about it, that’s not my problem. I got to be honest about my relationship with him, and that matters to me. It matters to me because Monk is no longer just this cute funny guy I’m dating. We’re having a Relationship. (Note that capitol letter.)
Monk remarked to me, “I haven’t had to charm a girl’s mom in a long, long time.” But he rose to the challenge beautifully. We semi-jokingly talk about how we’re past the initial challenges of starting a poly relationship: will this person fit into my life okay? Will my other partners like them? It feels nice to have those behind us. We know our relationship works in our small circle of daily-daily life. But now that we’re sort of settled into a groove with one aspect of our poly relationship, we’re coming on the more advanced-poly hurdles to leap. Monk, honey, have you ever been to Georgia?


So this brings the week off project to a close. I do hope you have enjoyed these guest posts. A big thank you to each of them for sharing thier perspectives and talent.

Monk's Week Off Blog Project, Day 4

What would be a week off with out a guest post from Galahad. His post last year was one of your favorites, mine too.

Over the last year, the Abbey has evolved. Now I'm sure some out there may disagree because after all, evolution is only a theory. It is possible that the Abbey sprung into being, exactly as it is today, and all evidence to its existence prior to today was merely created to deceive us…to make us believe that it had developed from humble beginnings in Monk's garage. Doubt me? You may be struck down by his Noodliness. Afterall, wikipedia tells only truth. Evolution is a lie and therefore the Abbey was born, not built.

But let's just pretent that we can trust our senses and our memories. What would they tell us? They would tell us that the company has increased its productivity a hundred fold from the days we spent shivering in the garage. The days when we were thrilled to ship out thirty feet of rope a day. Nerdygirl, while she would be out a job, wishes she was here for those days. It would mean that she could sleep. Something she rarely does anymore. Our memories would also remember a time when we could spend time with Monk and Tambo outside of the Abbey without first booking said time a month in advance. We would remember a time when Monk still had a subscription to Netflix (He doesn't have the time to make it remotely worthwhile anymore). We would remember a time when meals for our little family were cooked on a stove rather than over roaring jet engines.

The above is melancholy for me, and it's meant to be so. There are things I truly miss about the days before our proprietary rope manufacturing machines…before we could easily stock a full day at Folsom and before we could even consider two East coast shows in the same day. But on the other side of the coin is this. Before the changes, we wouldn't be talking about road tripping across the country a second time. We wouldn't be talking about doing not one, but two, San Francisco shows in the same year. We wouldn't have ensnared a lovely young lady from Wyoming here in Seattle…and we wouldn't have nearly as many wonderful surprises every day. Heck, Kitten and I wouldn't even have our new apartment…we have Griffin to thank for
that, and Griffin too is part of the Abbey's evolution.

I don't get to play Avril Lavigne at full blast at midnight on Sunday in Monk's living room anymore. But I do get random panicked calls from him asking me to cater part of the most prestigious fetish New Year's event in Seattle on a day's notice, which is almost as cool. And you know what…I love doing stuff like that! Do I enjoy where we've gone on this crazy train ride? You bet I do. Sure some things get left behind, but new things are around the corner. That's what going on a journey is about.

Monk's Week Off Blog Project, Day 3

A year ago, NerdyGirl was a reader who did a guest blog post for last year's week off project. Now she works for me, how is that for changes?

It’s Christmas Eve morning as I’m composing this blog post in my head for Monk. “Change over the past year” is the prompt he’s given us, and the weight of how different my life was a year ago settles around me. Last year at this time I was: living in Wyoming, dreading my last semester of college, planning a wedding for a couple of friends, plagued with asthma, and trying to wring out some last minute creativity for a guest blog post for Monk. This year I am: living in Seattle, still suffering from PTAS (post-traumatic-academic-syndrome) with occasional night terrors of not finishing my studies on time, figuring out this long-distance friendship-post-college thing, much healthier, and trying to wring out some last minute creativity for a guest blog post for Monk.

While this might seem like “same shit, different year” syndrome, the nature of my interactions with Monk have been the biggest change yet. A year ago I read Monk’s blog regularly, commented a couple times a week and occasionally conversed with him over e-mail. For the last five months I’ve been employed by TwistedMonk.com as shop assistant, customer service, general grunt, postal bitch, and portable brain. I still read his blog, I still comment, as we still converse over email but now I’m in the thick of the mayhem.

I know, I know, what could be better than being employed by one of the most charming and witty guys in the blogosphere? Well, I’ll let you in on a secret, kids: Monk has to practice that charm and wit sometimes and unfortunately Griffin and I are often the sounding board / back up singers. The most recent incident reminded me of that bit from the Princess Bride where Indigo (swarthy Spanish swordsman) and Fezzik (Andre the Giant) are tormenting Vizzini (short, bald Sicilian) with the rhyming game.

Indigo: That Vizzini, he can fuss.
Fezzik: ... fuss ... fuss ...I think he likes to scream at us.
Indigo: Probably he means no harm.
Fezzik: He's really very short on charm.
Indigo: Oh, you've a great gift for rhyme.
Fezzik: Yes, some of the time.
Vizzini: Enough of that.
Indigo: Fezzik, are there rocks ahead?
Fezzik: If there are, we'll all be dead.
Vizzini: No more rhymes now, I mean it!
Fezzik: Anybody want a peanut?

Substitute Griffin for Indigo, Monk for Fezzik, the various punchlines as rhymes for “anal dilation” and I’m left as the short, balding Sicilian. After I worked in the Abbey for about a month, Monk was wondering exactly how this trio dynamic was going to work—previously he and Griffin were the Rogues of the Rope as it were, and I am…well…not a rogue. I’ve learned to let go of a great deal of my seriousness though, and brought a smidge of organization to the shop. And there’s something to be said for the rogue that Monk is—somedays I’m certain it’s only the laughter that gets us through the cold of the Abbey…crazed and maniacal as it may be.

Monk's Week off Blog Project, Day 2

So today while I try to close the books for the year and file away this mountian of recipts, making nearly 18 miles of rope in 12 months tends to do that, enjoy this post from my fellow rogue, first mate, and a much respected friend Griffin.

Lots of people have asked how I ended up working with Monk. He likes to tell the curious that I’m working off my community service. I like to tell them that like Jane Goodall and her chimpanzees, I’ve spent months earning Monk’s trust and I’m now studying him in his natural habitat. The truth, while not quite as funny, is no less odd. My first anniversary of working with Monk is almost here, so now seems like a good time to share how it all began.

I met Monk shortly after his first Folsom. He was low on rope and needed some help making more. I was quitting my high paying tech job to pursue some creative endeavors and go back to school. I needed a new rope kit and had some extra time on my hands, so I proposed a trade. I’d help him get his stock levels back up in exchange for my rope. It’d only be for a week or two. That’s it. No long-term commitment.

Monk invited me over to his house and we agreed on a day and time. I arrived one cold, rainy winter morning and knocked on his front door. No one answered after a couple of tries, so I went to the side gate and peered over it. The backyard was flooded. It looked like some sort of strange, suburban swamp. I called out and after a minute, a hooded figure came shambling out of the mist. It was Monk, dressed head to toe in warm, woolen clothing. He looked like a resident of Dagobah.

He let me in and together we trudged through the backyard swamp to Twisted Monk headquarters: his garage. With all the equipment and raw stock inside, there was just enough space for two chairs and a propane tank heater. However, the space for the chairs came at a price. The garage door had to remain open while we worked, leaving us exposed to the elements.

We spent hours huddled around the propane tank, talking and finishing rope. We talked about kink, poly, and our individual outlooks on life. We cracked jokes and swapped stories. In short, we hit it off, like good friends often do. He is not just a friend, but also someone I can collaborate with. We feed off each other. We encourage one another to be more evil and wicked. We plot and scheme about scenes. For the good of mankind, we should never, ever be left unsupervised.

Naturally, we enjoyed working together, so I continued to work with Monk well after I’d earned my rope kit. We never really discussed it. There was more to do so we just kept on doing it. It wasn’t about the money. I don’t need it. Most people don’t know this, but I only moonlight for Monk. We each have our own dreams, but we support and encourage each other while we pursue them. It’s a very rewarding symbiotic relationship.

It’s amazing how far we’ve come in the last year. When we first started out in that little garage, it’d take all day just to prep 800 feet of rope. Now, I can process over 2400 feet of rope in the same amount of time. In the past year, Monk and I have traveled the country to sell rope and tie up beautiful women (and a few brave men). We’ve added Nerdy to our little family and formalized our working relationship. So much has changed, but the most important thing has remained unchanged since that first cold, wet day: We love what we do and we enjoy doing it together. It’s as simple as that.

Monk's Week off Blog Project, Day 1

And so it begins, dear reader, a week of guest posts by those closest to me. This year's theme is "change" and who best to start the week than my best friend, partner of 20 years, and love of my life. Tambo

What do you want to be when you grow up? When Mrs. Gibson, your 3rd-grade, pudgy, curly-haired teacher asked you this all-important question... what did you say? An astronaut? A doctor? Do you remember what it felt like to have that clear defining moment of "Yes that is totally what I'm going to be when I grow up!”? That complete clarity of thought, that you so knew where you were going, and that all important question was answered and you could just play your life out, travel down the merry path of life and everything was going to be exactly as you planned.

Yeah, right.

Doesn’t quite seem to work out that way, does it? I don't know about you, but I tend to flounder from one thing to the next. I like to think I have the vague idea of what I'd like to be. But it's more like, "Hey, maybe I'd like to try that. It looks like fun." or "I can do that!" No grand plan, just floundering.

I'm pretty sure that Monk didn't sit in his 3rd-grade desk, between bites of glue and pulling the girl’s pony tails sitting in front of him, and thought that, yes indeed he really wanted to make and sell bondage rope. However, he's one of the very few I know that did eventually not only figure out what he wanted to be, but pursued it, and with a mind-boggling amount of hard work, has made it a reality.

In the last year, TwistedMonk has stopped being a homegrown company. Yes, it did start out that way, but in the last year, Monk moved the rope manufacturing to the Abbey, sponsored conventions, traveled outside the Northwest area for events, and even hired employees. Even through all the change, he hasn't lost focus on his dream and what he wants to be.

I can't tell you what an amazing thrill it is to see this first hand. It's both terrifying and exhilarating to see him make this happen. Scarred at some point it will all come crashing down, but thrilled and surprised every day that it doesn't. There are no words on earth to express how proud I am of him and what he's accomplished. Through all of his hard work, he’s created a company that, when it comes right down to it, provides happiness in a box. Pure and simple.

It really can happen. You can still find the answer to Mrs. Gibson’s all-important, question, even now. Go out and seek and answer. Quit the day job, go pursue your craft and make it work. I’m not saying it’s easy. I’m not saying that it won’t be the hardest and scariest thing you’ve ever done. But it can be done. Ask Monk.

So, what do you want to be when you grow up?

Do They Know it’s Christmas Time at all?

Yesterday while preparing dinner for our little leather family, Tambo and I amused ourselves by trying to name all the places we have spent the holiday. Now, after nearly 20 years together and being very non-traditional when it comes to this event, we pretty much broke poor Nerdy’s brain with our list.

So here, in no particular order and by no means complete, is a list of places we have spent Christmas:

• At home, shades drawn and stoned out of our minds.
• At the North Pole… North Pole, Alaska that is.
• Inside a Microsoft Data Center.
• Apart, separated by 2 time zones.
• Sipping Jagermiester shots from a snow bank and contemplating the logistics of peeing off a deck at 40 below zero.
• Spending the day with a house full of swingers...and not taking our clothes off.
• Sitting in a Denny’s downtown watching the ebb and flow of humanity with nowhere to go.
• In bed, naked with a charming girl, pausing from our activities only long enough to listen to the radio play of “It’s a Wonderful Life”
• Smiling back tears knowing that this will probably be the last Christmas with a beloved grandparent.
• Having Tambo’s father tell the entire family over Christmas dinner that he was abducted by aliens and given an alien implant.

However you choose to celebrate this day, here is to making it a memorable one. Cheers and good luck.

Tomorrow, the guest blog posts begin!

Just one last minute order to fill and then we are all done for the season. I think Tambo and I are going to spend x-mas day much like this.

My Favorite Holiday Song

If I were ever to record a pop single it would have to be a holiday song. Why? Well those seem to have the best shelf life of all forms of music. Without fail, this time of year it is guaranteed that no matter how obscure the band may be, if they recorded a pop song about the holiday. It is bound to get airplay this time of year. You may never hear another note from them for the rest of the year, but come December they come back for another pass.

I’d like to think that for most folks, pop music serves as both entertainment as well as a sort of historical placeholder for us. Certain songs are so clearly associated with certain times of our lives that when we hear them we cannot help but be reminded of that time and place. Needless to say, with all the pop Christmas songs on the raido this week it has been hard to not get a bit nostalgic.

My favorite song of the season still has to be Harvey Danger’s “Sometimes you have to work on Christmas (sometimes)” You may have heard of these guys? They were (and still are) a local Seattle band that had a brief run up the pop charts back in the late 90’s. (If you have not heard of them, you really owe it to yourself to check them out. They still do some shows too.)

Some might say that this is a depressing tune. A sad song about isolation and loneness really. Me, I’d call it a perfect pop gem. A beautiful moment that captures that feeling of being isolated on a day when you are supposed to feel connected to something. Every time I hear it, I am reminded of those times in my life when I felt that way.

Care to take a listen for yourselves? The band has generously made a huge part of their catalog free, so here is the single. They also made a video that is just fantastic you can see it here.

Phone Call

The following are lines from my side of a recent phone call with my mother.

“Being poly means that I have two partners that I sleep with, not that I’m sucking random cock in Volunteer Park”

“Oh 15 miles a week is not too hard. I listen to a lot of heavy metal music and think about what my ass is gonna look like. Yeah, anger and narcissism are powerful motivators.”

“Its called a Hitachi Magic Wand mom, millions of lesbians can’t be wrong…”

I must give the gal credit; she is really trying to make sense of all this new data.

In other news, Dancer turned me onto some new books. She has an amazing appetite for the written word and has this unique knack for finding just the right book for me at just the right time. From essays on leather activism to biographies of fellow rouges, I always find a new treasure waiting for me on her bedside table. Now I love this girl like mad, but I must confess that her current recommendation has me worried. Laurell K Hamilton’s Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter series. Dear god in heaven, what did they do? Print the pages on paper made from marijuana using heroin based inks?! Complete and utter book crack I tell you.

I tried to explain why I, a guy who can make a novel last a good month, is devouring these books!

Imagine that you are sitting in front of a HUGE plate of freshly made brownies. Not brownies from scratch mind you, but the kind from a box. You know that they aren’t the best brownies out there, but right now they taste really good. So you have one, it doesn’t taste too bad, warm and sweet. Then another and another, next thing you know you have a quarter of the pan gone and you think to yourself, “I don’t even like brownies that much, why the hell can’t I stop eating them? Oh maybe just one more…” Now half the pan is gone you have to resort to sticking them in the freezer, you know “out of sight, out of mind” but NOOOOOO! You know what happens next, come midnight it’s frozen brownies. By this point you don’t even like the brownies anymore but you just can’t stop till they are all gone...

Guess I know what I’ll be doing with part of my week off.

I, I can’t believe it but I think the Christmas rush is finished. Aside from a lovely batch of violet to send out today to a sweet gal I know (thanks again for the AMAZING chocolates), we are done. Now I’m sure that there will be one or two last minute shoppers calling me this week in a panic. (Not to worry guys I still have some stock left over just give us a call and we can hook you up) I gotta declare that the Holiday Death March of 2005 is done!

Now I must confess that I’m honestly having a wee bit of trouble wrapping my head around it. Not only has this been the most stunningly successful month ever in the history of our little company, but we are done ahead of schedule and I’m not pulling my hair out with stress.

Damn…

So for the rest of the week I’m finishing a couple custom dye jobs, working on securing a few cool goodies to debut in the new year and generally getting ready to enjoy the holiday with those I hold dear.

And then I’m taking all next week off.

That’s right, the whole damn week. We are even going as far as to shut the entire company down for that week so Nerdy and Griffin can also enjoy some much needed (and well earned) R&R too. That’s right, no rope for me for a whole week. Ok, I might tie someone up that week but no actual rope making. In addition to taking the week off from work, I’m going to take a week off from this blog as well.

Fear not dear readers, I have something good for you.

If you recall last year, when I took the first week of January off, I invited a number of folks to post as “guest bloggers”. Friends, lovers and fans each one shared their unique take on the whole “Monk” thing. This year, rather than just having folks write about me. Not that I don’t like that mind you, no this year we are going to try for a central theme for all the posts. Now since this year has been one of radical, if not staggering at times, change for us all I chose this as the topic. How has this year in your life with Monk (the company, the blog, the person, etc) changed?

I have some great guests lined up for your reading pleasure so stay tuned for that next week.

Recommendations,

Last week I had the pleasure of binding the most charming and sweet British girl. Yeah, I have said it before and I’ll say it again. I have a serious thing for girls with accents and British accents are right at the top of that list. (Must have been all that Benny Hill I watched on late night PBS as a pre-teen) Anyways, while we were doing the whole pre-scene negotiation over lunch I thanked her for agreeing to come play with me, a guy she met literally 48 hours ago. “Well I don’t make it a habit of playing with strangers,” she responded in her crisp London accent, “but you came with glowing recommendations.”

Recommendations, now here is a funny phenomenon of the leather community. In the past, if I wanted to spend time, get naked, tie up, or otherwise be generally toppy with someone we would spend some time together and if there was chemistry, move on to the bedroom and let nature take it’s course. It was not until I started actively participating in the local leather scene here in Seattle when someone with whom I was flirting with said to me. “You seem really hot and sound like a lot of fun. My only question is this, who do you know? Who can vouch for you?”
At the time this took me aback. Look lady I just want to tie you up, not open a line of credit.

What seemed foreign and unnatural then makes a lot of sense to me now. In fact, I do it all the time. You see, what we do is dangerous and while there are a number of ways we go about minimizing that danger. In the end, a bottom must put a great deal of faith into someone who could (heaven forbid) seriously hurt them physically (and emotionally). Now if the top is not someone they have known for a while or someone with whom they share a mutual emotional investment with, this is a very scary thing. So knowing that this person that they are about to play with is trusted by others in the community, others they also trust… well that helps a great deal. Sure, it will always in the end be the responsibility of the bottom to ask the important questions and clearly set their limits, but that personal recommendation goes a long way.

There is of course a flip side to this. By giving a recommendation like this, you are assuming responsibility for the safety of another human being. Don’t take this lightly. If the top you recommended turns out to not respect limits, lacks the skills or worse is dangerous… how can you sleep at night with the knowledge that you knowingly put another human at risk like that?

Perhaps I am being overly melodramatic here, people are people and we cannot control another human’s actions nor can we flawlessly predict what another will do in every situation. In the end, yes, it is the bottom’s choice as to whom they will play with and if they put themselves in a dangerous situation. However, like it or not, you are judged by the company we keep. What happens when that company you once glowingly endorsed is found lacking?

Well then, then dear readers you may find ourselves not getting those positive recommendations either.

More thoughts on Christmas gifts

So we they have started to arrive at the Abbey, boxes bearing goodies from all over the world. Notes, cards and yes goodies from our amazing customers. Sometimes they are simple things, a hand written note of thanks. Sometimes they are complex affairs, a box of homemade goodies wrapped shibari style. Now to be honest, I’d be tickled pink if you just kept buying rope from me, but if you insist on buying rope AND sending me goodies. Well what is a boy to do but blush and say thank you?

Thank you all; you guys are just the best ever.

One such package contained some interesting chocolate treats.
Upon inspecting them, Nerdy expressed her concern. “Smoked sea salt and chocolate? Why that, that is just wrong! Sacrilege I tell you.”
No sooner had she popped the small dark milk chocolate gem into he mouth when her expression of worry was replaced with a look of bliss.
“How are they?” I ask.
“Sac-ra-liscious!”

Then there was the matter of the white elephant gift exchange we did. You know, when you get a group of friends together and they all swap gag gifts, silly, cheap items that are good for a laugh and not much more? Well when it is the crowd who normally inhabit the Abbey, well you know that the gifts are going to be on the strange AND naughty side…and yes they were. I got one of these. Silly no?

Now most folks, upon getting a crass and impractical gift, would have a good laugh and then promptly stash the offending item deep in a closet till such a time as they can recycle the item by gifting it on to someone else. However, I’m not most people. I can think of several charming girls (and a boy or two) who would rather enjoy being tied into a ball and made into a human goal post.

“We are down to short strokes now…”
I used to have a boss who would use that phrase for whenever we were getting really close to completing a project. Now I’ll admit that at the time I thought it was a slightly off color thing for a senior Microsoft exec to say, till I later found out that he was actually talking about golf and not masturbation.

Anyways, we are in fact down to the last days for placing orders. Any orders placed after Friday December 16th may not make it in time for the holiday. We will do our best, but no promises here folks. Now if you are looking for a last minute gift, we do have a couple of these left in stock and I think they are particularly cool.



These are a Wax and Rope kit. 3 lengths of rope, safety shears and a set of wax play candles all gift boxed up and ready to go. We have a few left in crimson, and natural (think we might have one left in black) and if you ask really, really nice we will make you one in our color of the month (we have only enough for one, so don’t dawdle).

So if you are looking to send the gift of rope this year, best be ordering via the website, via e-mail or calling the Abbey direct at 206-938-7527

So what do I want for Christmas?

At the behest of Tambo, Dancer and Nerdy I’m making a Christmas list. See the ugly truth is, I’m really hard to shop for. If I see something I want, I usually just get it for myself. When pressed items that I would like as a gift, I tend to shrug my shoulders and go, “I dunno”.

While I’m a huge fan of hand made things, the gift of time and talent, as it were. This really does not work for most folks. Besides, for some folks if they can’t get it off of Amazon… well then you are not getting it. That, and if all I did was ask for cookies and back rubs, I’ll be a very round yet very relaxed boy.

I do think that these items are quite keen.
I’m a complete and utter I-tunes whore. A gift card for more tunes would not be wasted.
Locking Carabineers, Can’t really have enough of those
Levis 501 Jeans, Original or Black, size 34w32l
Socks, thick and warm wool socks
New earphones for my I-pod
Wesco Boss Motorcycle Boots, 20” Engineer Boot.
A subscription to this game
Last, but not least. I really want a stainless steel ball, about 10-15 pounds in size, with a ring welded on it. Why? Well that dear readers, is a story (and photos) for another day.

A wee bit of holiday cheer, courtesy of Tambo and Nerdy.

They cooked up a batch of politically incorrect gingerbread men. ( or is that persons of ginger influence?) Anyway they were a huge hit at the party we went to last night and I thought you all might enjoy them too. The party? Oh it was grand.

Any time I get to tie up Tambo is a good time. We have been experimenting with some non traditional suspension positions, like integrating suspension and piercing, so last night I bound and bent her backwards into the shape of the letter J. (with great sucess I might add)

She is really going to hate me when I try to do the letter Q next.

One Scene, Three Perspectives

So about that corset tie I keep talking about. I thought that perhaps rather than just me re-telling the story from my perspective you might enjoy hearing (and seeing) the tie from multiple viewpoints. Ohh I know, how new media of me.

First, from the perspective of the partner who lovingly allowed her partner to be bound by me.
Red and I were quite excited when we learned about ARS. Well, I kind of brushed her off about it at first, only to surprise her with it for our anniversary gift. So, it was on. Then we found out Monk was going to be at the same show! We have been avid readers of his blog (and my girl has turned into a twistedmonk rope slut) and were both excited to have a chance to meet him.

Prior to going to the Symposium, we hashed out all things related.
1. We were not completely comfortable with playing with other folk
2. Monk could be the only other person to really tie her up...and we would both judge our comfort levels of that after we met the freak man.

So, long and kinky story short. Now, I am quite certain that there were many a man who would have liked to slide a piece of rope over that hot piece of ass. The thing is....guys, when you are a foot away from a girl...don't act like you have never seen boobies in your life. Don't do the creepy man stare! It is creepy beyond words and goes against your ultimate plan to touch MOST females that are in a 5 mile radius. We gossip...you make one of us feel uncomfortable and you are fucked (not in the good way). So yeah, after fending off rays of chilly stares and the too-close-for-comfort brushings with Creepy McCreepersons, I didn't know how I felt about some person I had just met that day tying up dear, sweet Red.

Buuuuuut, the Monkinator turned out to be a very thoughtful, caring guy and not only respected her, but respected me as her partner. That night at the play part, Red and I were to meet up with Monk beforehand so I could learn a thing or two...or three or ten. Red's wardrobe plans went out the window when Monk asked if he could do a corset/face tie on her. We both turned and looked at each other, gave the approving nod and went into a back room to get it on (the rope, that is). There were two evil minds, one sweet girl, piles of rope, and two sets of chopsticks. After the corset was snugly in place, Red's face was glowing with delight. Head bondage seems to take red right under and that combined with the chopstick predicament piece was just...awesome. I loved seeing her head bowed for most of the evening. Oh, and while tying her up was amazing, it was the unwrapping of Red that was entirely fulfilling. ;)

And now, from the delightful victim herself…
First of all, I'm very thankful to Chance for allowing Monk to tie me this weekend.

Friday night at the dinner party was the first time someone other than she had tied me, and I was very excited but a little nervous at first. However, that was quickly allayed. Monk seemed able to read me instantly and respond in the way I needed to feel comfortable. Saturday night was no different; when he began to tie me, I looked to Chance to make sure everything was all right and when she gave me that look, I could immediately feel myself going 'under.'

The corset tie was my favorite. I have always loved being tied in tightly, and this was like the best corset ever: finally tight enough. As Monk worked his way down my body, I could feel all of the ropes finding their comfortable places, and I had that familiar sensation of my body being held while my mind floated away.

Next, he tied my head. I think Chance liked this best, since it kept my head down, where it belongs! Monk did a bit of face bondage on me, something I've decided I like the feeling of, and he and Chance worked in a bit of predicament bondage with some well-placed chopsticks. I could, of course, lift my neck; however, there were choices to make, and my nipples would rather I obey Chance's admonition to bow my head.

I don't remember much of the rest of the party that evening, as I was at least a million miles away, but I do know I felt more in and yet more out of my body than I have felt in weeks. Something about those tight bonds is so freeing!

Now I must confess that I really enjoy doing what I call “facilitator scenes” where I can share my skill with a couple such that they both can enjoy the experience. There is something really gratifying about being able to step back when I am done and watch as the lovers share this new experience together. Like giving them a gift I guess. This was no different, while proud of the technical aspects of the bind, the devious nature of the predicament aspect of the bondage, what felt really good about it was that in the end, it was about them and this new thing that they would now have to share with each other.

Of course I must close with this one last bit. On Sunday morning after the party, Red returned my ropes to me. Coiled in perfect bundles, just the way I like them, and bearing a note. A simple thing really, neatly written on hotel stationary, funny how a simple gesture of thanks could move a boy to tears, but it did.

Oh what, you wanted to SEE the tie too? Ok, here you go. NOT WORK SAFE.

Cuz I like you most, I'm giving you first shot...


Last month's color of the month was a huge success. We sold out of the Belladonna in less than 13 days. Thank you to everyone who added that unique color to his or her toy bags.

This month's color?

A rich cinnamon brown that we have dubbed "Sin-amon" As before this is a one-time color run. When we sell out of this shade, we will not be making it again. Do not delay; we are already sold out of all the 8MM stock in this color. A customer came into the Abbey to pick up an order, saw the rope drying on the racks and bought every last inch of it on the spot.

I'm giving you, the loyal blog reader, first dibs on this rope. Tomorrow we announce it to the rest of the world and well, well then it will be long gone.

So don't wait, go buy some now.

PS I have not forgotten about the promise of pretty girls in rope corsets. Just waiting on the final OK to use the images. Even a raging pervert like me must respect one's privacy.

Day off.

Well we did great this weekend, those 3 shows all were a huge success. Last night over Brazillian steaks, we (Nerdy, Tambo and I) compared notes. The all female sales arm of the compay is a force to be reconed with, those girls can kick out the jams when it comes to selling rope. I can't wait to see what happens when we bring the full company to Chigago to sell at Shibaricon AND IML at the same time. Not only did we sell a mountian of rope, we also have a nice stack of Christmas orders in the queue and more coming in. December is shaping up to be a great month for our little rope company.

We have a lot of work to do now, but today I'm taking the day off. Gonna focus on unpacking, getting in a nice long run at the gym and then a much anticipated evening with Dancer.

Nice, very nice indeed.

Ok, so tomorrow we will get back to our regulary scheduled perversion. Perhaps I shall tell you about the corset / face bondage tie I did on the cutest girl in all of Texas (complete with photos)? Yeah, sounds like fun. Till then I'm going to leave you with this fun little teaser. In the next 6 months I'm going to Japan to train in the dojo of a famous pro rope rigger.

and that, dear readers, is a story for another day.

Home again

Home safe and sound from the Austin show. There is nothing quite like the feeling of coming home, that familiar warmth that no hotel can match. Now before I curl up in to the arms of my Tambo and catch up on some much needed sleep I do need to thank a few people.

First off, thanks for the nice perverts in Austin for hosting the event. As rope conventions go it was pretty damn good. Sure there were things that could have been done differently, that is the case with every convention. I’m looking forward to coming back next year.

I have a bundle of stories to share from the event, but I need to say thanks to a group of blog readers who became my extended family while I was at the show. New friends, old friends, even a friend who flew 15 hours on standby just to come to the event when he heard I was going to be there. Wow, you all rock. These wonderful folks brought me food, shuttled me about, let me wander into their classes and offer advice on ties, brought me cookies, let me tie them up, they shared their homes and their time with me. So… Lynn, Red, Chance, Hannah, Brian, Grey, and Minx you all have my thanks. These events would be really boring with out folks like you.

Now two individuals deserve a very special thanks. Goose and Gander were at the center of this little Austin love fest. Organizing a welcome for me, they opened their home and their lives to a bunch of relative strangers. There is so much love between these two people that it just seems to overflow into the world around them. These two are just about the nicest folks I have ever met in my travels.

Things you just can’t make up.

As is often the case, the location where ARS was hosted is being shared by other events. We had the private top floor of the convention center while downstairs... Well, last night they held a high school formal dance. Yep, as I’m walking across the parking lot from my hotel to the entrace to play party, huge rope bag over my shoulder and sporting my “Boy Sluts Of America” T-shirt, there in the parking lot were about a hundred high school kids all dressed in their rental formal wear best. I must say it is hard to execute a good D/s scene when the tune “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” seeps up into the play space from the dance below. Makes one wonder what sounds they heard last night?

Oh and this morning? This morning we are all sitting in the vendor area, blinking at each other with bleary eyes and asking, “do you hear singing?”

Yep, that would be singing (complete with organ music) from the CHURCH SERVICE going on in the space below.

Strange days indeed.

The really amazing thing, or perhaps it is miraculous, was that neither vanilla event had much had much to complain about. The organizers and the attendees did a damn fine job keeping the locals in the dark.

So you’re going to a leather con for the very first time huh?

Here are a few tips for surviving one of these events from someone in the trenches, a guy who has worked more than a few booths.

1) DO NOT FREAK THE LOCALS!
Unless you are going to one of the really big conventions, the kind that sell out an ENTIRE hotel, you are going to be sharing space with the locals. It is important to recognize that these folks outnumber you and well, a lot of them would like nothing more than for our kind to be marched off in chains for re-education. Sure, you have just as much right of self-expression as the next person, but have some common sense. Prancing about the lobby dressed like an adult baby or doing a D/s scene in the sports bar is a sure fire way to get the hotel up in arms and the event shutdown. Your one act of sexual freedom could mean setting back the local SM community for years.

2) Don’t be a jack ass to the staff.
Most of the event staff at these conventions are volunteers. Folks who are donating their time and talent so YOU can have an event to go to. They are usually over worked, under informed and doing the best job they can under the circumstances. Coping an attitude and causing them grief accomplishes nothing, save making you look like a spoiled brat. So take a chill pill, relax and strike up a conversation with the person in line with you.

3) A black top and jeans is your best friend. (This also goes for pretty much ANY kink event you go to, this combo should fit right in)
During the course of the day you will be attending classes, meeting people and shopping (yeah shopping). Dressing in the backless PVC evening gown is really not advised. Save that for the play party later. Layers are a good plan if you are going to classes that require you to participate. A loose top that you can quickly remove over a tight body stocking or something like that works great. Stick to something comfortable and something that if you find yourself in the middle of the hotel restaurant and suddenly surrounded by Mormons. Well you know the rest. Call it “kink camouflage”

4) You did not invent SM sex.
A convention is a great place to meet a huge cross section of the SM community. From the old guard to the new kids, everyone there is coming for the same reason. To meet, share and shop (yeah shopping). Kinksters love to share their knowledge with those who have a genuine and sincere interest in learning. You may think you are the baddest SM top on two legs and your submissive might worship the ground you walk upon, but you are not the first. You didn’t invent this. Also, when you run afoul of some self-important top, keep that in mind too. Neither did he.

So in short, if you just remember these things you will have a great time.
Jeans, a black top, and don’t be a self important ass clown!

One Step Ahead of a Shoeshine, Two Steps Away from the County Line…

I always seem to get this song stuck in my head the night before I travel to do a show. It’s a little known song from Simon and Garfunkel called “Keep the Customer Satisfied”. The chorus goes,

I get slandered, libeled I hear words I never heard in the bible,
but I’m one step ahead of a shoe shine, two steps away from the county line,
just try’n to keep the customer satisfied, satisfied.

Ok so I don’t always sing that song. Sometimes I get “Leaving On A Jet Plane” stuck up there too.

We are loaded and ready to go for this weekend’s show in Austin. I forget how much gear even a small show like this requires. In addition to my personal rope bag, I’m dragging over 200 pounds of stock to this event. TWO HUNDRED pounds! Damn, and I’m the SMALL show. Just think how much stuff Tammy and Nerdy are going to be packing to their events.

Its kinda funny really, I travel a lot for the business. Going to conventions and flying to negotiate new supply contracts and whatever else. Next year I expect to travel even more, we are even talking about doing our first ever European sales tour next year. So whenever I tell someone that I just got back from some city, the first thing they ask me is if I got to see whatever that city’s claim to fame might be. I usually shrug and say, “They have one of those there?!”

You see, the ugly truth is this. When I do travel to a city for a show I don’t get to see much more than the airport, the hotel where the event is located, and any local scenery that might be viewed from the windows of the cab to or from those locations. Ah the glamorous life of the traveling rope maker?

There is an upside to this. While I may not get to see much of the local color, I do get to meet the locals, they come out to see us. Readers, customers, friends old and new. They bring lunches when we are too busy to take a break. They open their homes to us when we have no place to stay and welcome us, strangers, into their homes like honored family.

So no, when you ask me about a place I won’t tell you what sites of local interest I saw. Instead I’ll tell you about the wonderful people I met along the way.