“It's bondage for me, sweetheart. I've gotta feel secure.”

June 20th, 2009

I want to be tied up so tightly, I cannot move. I want to feel the bite of the rope in my skin. I want it to be hemp – cotton and the blends are too soft – I want to feel the teeth of the rope.

I often have the desire to be tied up and tossed in the corner, but I’ve never indulged it. I usually feel this way when things are out of control and/or full of drama. I just want a break from it – a “sorry, can’t help you, I’m a bit tied up right now,” excuse. Tossed in a corner so everyone will just leave me alone. But I never get to do it. I have made the request a couple times, but whenever I do, he asks what is wrong and we talk it out. He knows I don’t really want to be ignored and tossed aside.

This is different. It isn’t the warm wrap, or the sense of safety. I want the tying – the wrapping, the tugging, the roughness, the attention. Attention to the rope, the knots, the pattern, to my body, to my mind, to my need for the rope. I want to feel not just secure, but restrained. I don’t want to be tied to something. I just want the rope, tight and secure – only rope. Mummified would take too much rope, I don’t need to be covered in it, I just want to be completely immobilized.

Why? Because I haven’t gotten to sink into the rope for awhile. Because I play with rope a lot, but lately it hasn’t been about the rope. It’s been about escape, or pain, or sex or flying, or discipline. Sometimes I just want it to be about the rope. About the fibers digging in and taking complete control of me. About the feel of the rope on my skin, the touch of his hand as he ties, the smell of the hemp, and the strength of the wraps.

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