On being tied in ‘Naka style’ by Naka-san

Photo by anonymous.

Have you ever been in the middle of something when you realised that it’s your dream coming true, only you didn’t even know you had such a dream? It happened to me. And it made me cry in ropes for the first time. 

The pandemic dust was settling slowly and more rope events were happening in Europe again, including visits by foreign teachers. One of them (considered by many to be the one) was Naka Akira-sensei whom Kinbaku Lounge in Copenhagen invited to give a workshop in October last year. On an evening before the workshop there was a ‘Semenawa kinbaku kenyukai’, modelling those that Naka-san organises in Japan. I decided to go even though I could not participate in the workshop (it was meant for people who have not learned from Naka-san before). In fact, seeing Naka-san tie Iroha-san and another model live seemed even more interesting than the workshop. I bought the ticket and waited impatiently for the day of the event.

To my surprise, a couple of weeks later I got a call from Namarie from Kinbaku Lounge asking me to be the other model at the event. At first, I could not believe it. “Me? A model of Naka-san?” He was one of my most important teachers and a Master completely out of reach. “Could this be true? Do I have anything to offer to him as a model?” It seemed that Namarie and Scott believed I did (and I will be forever grateful for it). I needed a day to sober up and to think about it but in the end I said “yes”. I don't think I could live with a peace of mind if I had given a different answer. Even though the thought of being tied by Naka-san in front of a crowd of strangers made me slightly nauseous. 

The day of the event was hectic. In the morning I flew from Berlin to Copenhagen (straight from another rope event, Eurix), picked up the keys to my weekend apartment, dropped the bags and rushed to the Kinbaku Lounge. And after a short city train ride, I stood eye to eye with living legends of kinbaku, Naka Akira sensei and Iroha-san (I know they don’t like to be called that but the truth is they are living legends). We exchanged pleasantries and were supposed to talk about the upcoming session but, I think, we both didn’t know where to start. There was so much to say and so little time that we both decided not to say much, stick to the basics, and see what would happen. He asked me if I was aware that his style of rope was erotic and how flexible I was. I said I was aware and alright with it and that I was relatively flexible. I showed him the dress I was planning to wear and he said he liked it because it had buttons going all the way down. He asked me if I would wear panties and I said yes, black ones. He said I could wear any colour I wanted. 

The moment he invited me on stage to kneel in front of him, I finally understood what was happening. I also realised that no matter how many pictures and videos of his rope I’ve seen and no matter that I did a workshop with him and Iroha-san and had seen them perform, he was a stranger to me. And there was no reason why I should submit to him. I didn’t know if I wanted to ‘be his’. And to me this is what happens when you let someone tie you. You belong to that person, even if for a short while. 

I was not sure how this session was going to go. The truth was that in the last months, or even years, I’d been going through a transformation and that transformation was not finished yet. If this session was happening a couple of months ago, I’d sit down in front of him, ready to give him everything right from the start. But not anymore. Yes, I was going to do what was necessary to make it worthwhile for the people who bought the tickets because I was a professional in some way, but would I give him all I had? That was undecided.

The first rope of the TK was uncertain, searching. I was sweaty and uncomfortable and the swarm of thoughts in my head was not helping. ”Am I behaving the way he thought I would? Will I be able to survive what he’ll tie? What am I doing here? Am I going to deliver an experience that Namarie and Scott were hoping for?” I think that Naka-san felt this uncertainty too. We were both a bit shy, insecure. The question “Is the other going to like what I have to offer?” was going through both our heads, it seemed. And we didn’t know the answers yet. One thing was sure, though, I liked him being close to me. I didn’t feel uncomfortable when he sat right behind me and extended his ropes around me, almost like an embrace. It felt good.

He tied the first rope, broke my seiza and displayed me to the audience talking about how for him each rope was a finished image. Each rope mattered. I was not sure what I was supposed to do at that time so I decided to just be there and react to what was happening with as much honesty as I could muster. In fact, it was the least and the only thing I could do. 

Photo by anonymous.

From then on my memories get a bit blurry. There was a second rope of a TK and being displayed again. There was a slow unbuttoning of my dress and Naka-san saying he enjoyed it because there were so many buttons. He did not want to reach his goal as soon as possible. He savoured the process, peeling my layers off slowly. The unbuttoning made me feel wanted which made me feel shy which made me turn my head away as I often do. Was it real shame or was I flirting with him? I still don’t know until today. The mysteries of my unconscious are mysteries to me as well. 

Then there was a moment, still on the floor but after an upline already supported me from above, when he opened my legs and started tying a harness around my thighs and hips, the one in which you put the rope very high around the thighs, almost in the groin, and which was always painful to me because the insides of my legs are hyper-sensitive. I remember thinking that it was going to be difficult if he was going to use it in a suspension, even though he probably thought it would make things easier because it provided additional support. But I didn't say anything. I was there to experience what was there to experience and the only shadow of influence I allowed myself was to express how I was affected by it. But whether he would be able to read and respond to it, we could not know yet.

But then he attached the hip rope to the TK in such a way that I arched my back and sat up straight and that was the first surprise. I was trying to hide by arching my back and hanging into the TK and he made me display myself. I didn’t expect that. I felt exposed but also seen. I felt toyed with and I liked it. Up until now, the session was rather objectifying but this was the first time I felt that it was not about objectification at all. Naka-san was trying to get to know me. And it seemed like he was starting to get at something. 

Things continue to be blurry from that moment on. There was a futomomo and at some point I was up in the air. There was also a third rope on my chest. And another futomomo. And a lot of rope around my wrists which was biting into my lower arm and reminding me that what we were doing was dangerous. I was 60% certain I wouldn’t get injured so I went with it because I didn’t want his torture to stop. There was a moment when I was hanging upside down from two futomomos and a waistline with my legs spread open and I felt like I was about to be sacrificed or like I was being punished for something horrible I’d done, my breasts revealed bare, my image must have been a mixture of erotic and miserable, one enhanced by the other. 

Photo by anonymous.

As I was hanging there, I thought it was about to be over. I thought that it was the final dramatic position and I was about to go down and get that sweet feeling of “it’s all over now” and “you are ok now” and to bask in the memories of what I went through. Only it wasn’t. In fact, what happened at that moment felt more like a beginning. And that was a second surprise. I can’t tell why but I think that it was only then when Naka-san started to tie me for real. I don’t know if it was because I became completely open and bare or because he got out of his patterns and his creativity began to really flow. 

All I know is that when he pulled my TK up and when I ended up in something like a gyaku-ebi (only it was not a gyaku-ebi because the rope around my lower back was preventing me from bending so I was basically just spread open in all directions), something left me and something entered me. And when he lay down under me to have a look at what he did, I couldn’t help the tears falling. I still don’t know why. I never cry in ropes but with this man I did. And it’s not because he was the meanest or the most ruthless of them all. There was not one thing he did to me that somewhere deep inside of me I didn’t want. And it was so vulnerable to know that he knows. 

I’m not trying to make this experience spiritual. Let’s face it, I was exposed and erotically tortured in front of a crowd of people by a perverted older man. And I liked it. It was not about god but about sex. But it was exactly the realisation that this perverted sexual experience was what I wanted and he could see it that made me feel so vulnerable. There was no escape from it because there I was, hanging exposed, with one of my arms losing feeling and yet I didn’t say stop. I didn’t say I wanted out. I let him go on, past anything I’d thought was reasonable, because this was exactly who I was. And he was in it with me.

In the past I wrote about Japanese rope being objectifying and I must say I might have been wrong. Yes, what Naka-san did to me was objectifying but only if I imagined how it must have looked from the outside. Apart from the first part of the scene when he was tying me and talking to the audience I did not feel objectified. Yes, he was exposing and enjoying my body but, somehow, the entire time I felt we were in this together. I didn’t feel like I wasn’t human to him. On the contrary, my humanity seemed to be the most interesting part of me to him. 

A friend of mine who saw this session said that it was like watching our first couple of dates unfold fast-forward right in front of their eyes. And I believe it. It certainly felt like we got to know each other even though we barely talked. I guess the way you get to know someone when they put you through misery which they know you crave creates an understanding that is deeper than words. 

One thing we know for sure after that evening. We are both perverts. And we are not afraid to show it.

Musings on kinbaku appreciation, art, crafts, and beauty in ropes

Photo by Dolph Vex.

Apart from being a rope model I am also a kinbaku appreciator. Or rather, I am on a path of becoming one as I don’t think I have obtained this skill yet. Just as with any skill, understanding and enjoying kinbaku requires effort and dedication. And the more work you put into it, the more subtle pleasures you will be able to derive from it. 

The path to becoming a kinbaku appreciator is not only through knowledge, even though knowing the history, the important masters and their styles and how they evolved adds to one’s experiences. But what I think is even more important than knowledge is a practice of differentiating between what you find beautiful and what you don’t. In an amazing book by a Japanese pottery master, Soetsu Yanagi, “The Unknown Craftsman”* he says about appreciating beauty: “First, put aside the desire to judge immediately; acquire the habit of just looking. Second, do not treat the object as an object for the intellect. Third, just be ready to perceive, passively, without interposing yourself.” In that way you learn how to ‘feel’ beauty instead of trying to rationalise it. Similar ideas were also prominent in other books on traditional Japanese aesthetics**, *** that I’ve read and in my view they are strongly related to the ideas of living itself being an art that comes from Zen Buddhism and that are very close to my heart. 

The relationship between the artist and the viewer in traditional Japanese arts is usually more equal than in the West. For the Japanese thinkers, an audience perceiving an art piece does not just passively receive what the artist has to show but rather actively co-creates the experience. The audience is an intrinsic part of the work of art they perceive. In the words of Kakuzo Okakura**: “The sympathetic communion of minds necessary for art appreciation must be based on mutual concession. The spectator must cultivate the proper attitude for receiving the message, as the artist must know how to impart it.” In that spirit I watch kinbaku and I train my senses to perceive more of its nuances. Also, I observe what is appreciated by people who are more knowledgeable than I am to learn to feel what makes it such. Not to parrot or rationally understand them but to feel what they feel when they look at something beautiful. I am not saying that you *need* to look at kinbaku in Japanese way in order to appreciate it fully. I am inspired by it because I find these ideas appealing also outside of the kinbaku setting, practising Zen Buddhism and learning about it’s philosophy. Applying it to my passion is a natural consequence. 

I’ve been talking about art the entire time so far but should we even call kinbaku an art? 

I think ‘yes’ and ‘no’ depending on how we want to look at it. In “The Unknown Craftsman” Yanagi makes a distinction between art and crafts. He says that art is something to look at, something torn away from everyday life, while crafts create things for everyday use, such as clothes, furniture and pottery. In light of these definitions kinbaku to me is a craft. It is a skill of using ropes in order to make people suffer, for erotic pleasure, or other purposes that one would use bondage for. It has an aim, it is not done for the sake of tying only. Or rather, it can be but the beauty of it comes from its use. Yanagi says that the beauty in crafts is the “beauty that is identified with use. It is beauty born of use. Apart from use there is no beauty of craft. Therefore, things made that do not stand up to use or that ignore utility can barely be expected to contain this kind of beauty.” He also talks about the fact that “individualistic beauty”, which is created by artists is lower than the beauty that transcends the individual, which you find in crafts. 

To me, even the most beautiful rope work done only for the sake of showcasing the skill of the rigger or the model lacks that “something”, that naturalness which would be there if it was created to be used. That is also, I believe, why the works of Norio Sugiura are so powerful. He is using rope and his subjects for something more than simply tying a shape, and he suggests that something in his photography. Even though his pictures are full of rope, they are never about the rope. And they are also never about the model. They are about creating an image that will satisfy perverted onlooker’s dark fantasies. They are about telling a story that will excite our imagination. They are using rope in such a way that they make one think about what will happen next and what has happened before. The beauty of rope in them is a necessary element but not a goal by itself. And that is what I often miss in other rope photographs or rope performances. Very often they are about showcasing beautiful pieces of rope work but not about “using” what the rigger has just created and because of that they end up being empty. By using I mean - torturing the model, using them for their pleasure, or even simply enjoying their work; not tying in order to stroke their or their model’s ego but in order to put a human being in a position of distress and helplessness because it is something they enjoy seeing. 

Of course, rope bondage can (and does) have other purposes than putting someone in distress or using them for rigger’s pleasure but to me those can often be artificial and not logical, like using a knife to caress your lover. Sure, if you do it very delicately, it might even be pleasurable. But why use a tool for a purpose it was not created for and discard its inherent properties? To me, tying people up for purposes other than mentioned before lacks the “naturalness” that in traditional Japanese arts defines things that are beautiful. It’s a matter of taste. I’m not saying that there is anything wrong with using rope to worship the model, to give them love or appreciation, or to show off your skills, it’s just that I don’t find it beautiful. To me, the whole point of tying someone up (also when it is done for their pleasure) is about tearing something out of them, cracking up their shiny surfaces, getting under their skin (which might also be a kind of worship or appreciation, I admit). And if I don’t see rope being used for that, I just can’t see the beauty in it in the meaning of ‘beautiful kinbaku’. I can still find it interesting and even derive some aesthetic pleasure from it but it will not have the depth I am looking for. Again, as master Yanagi says, “The deepest beauty is suggestive of infinite potentiality rather than being merely explanatory. (...) All works of art, it may be said, are more beautiful when they suggest something beyond themselves than when they end up being merely what they are.” To me in kinbaku, that beautiful something is what you tear out of the model against their will, and what seeing that does to the onlooker. 

Coming back to the topic of art vs. craft, in my opinion a complex craft elevated to such perfection as kinbaku sometimes is, can be called art. Art, to me, is a form that transcends its use. Something that makes me think and feel beyond what I am looking at. That transforms me into a different realm, that moves me. I think that kinbaku has all these components when performed skilfully (both in terms of skills of the rigger and of the model). But it is a different kind of art. It is not an individualistic art in which the creator is showing off themselves or trying to tell us something. It is an art just because of the sheer amount of skill and sophistication that goes into performing it but it is up to the audience to recognise it. It is art because it elevates something as lowly as torture and sexual exploitation to a spectacle that you can’t take your eyes away from. This is what makes it ‘bigger than life’, which to me is what art is about. 

Apart from the high-level beauty coming from use, there is also a more fine level of beauty in kinbaku, the beauty of the tie itself, of the position of the body of the model and of the actual rope work. Just as in the tea ceremony, there is the ephemeral beauty of the moment and the communion with other people who participate in the event, and there is also the more physical beauty of the utensils, the subtle decoration of the room and the elegant movements of the tea master. And that physical beauty can be more easily defined by what we humans conventionally find aesthetically pleasing, even though it also becomes less straightforward once we develop sophisticated ways of looking at things. 

Recently, because of a strained shoulder I avoided being tied in a TK and ended up being tied in a strappado a lot. It was an interesting exercise, because it made me and my partner, Asiana, look at familiar ties from new angles. One of our discoveries was that it seemed like pretty much everything that she tied looked better with a strappado. But we couldn’t figure out why. At that time we were tying on a single point and a lot of ties we did were kind of crunched or on the contrary, spreading me open, and they were not making me appear very graceful. It was interesting to see how combined with a strappado each of these positions felt more elegant and also looked more conventionally beautiful in the pictures that Asiana showed me. Later, we switched to bamboo again and she tied me in a ‘classic’ S-shape. Getting out of it, I was amazed by how much easier it was for me to take it, partly because I felt graceful and beautiful in it. Then I realised that in general many ties from Naka style make me feel this way and are often easier to handle than ties from other styles. I was trying to figure out what it is that makes them so graceful I have a theory - long lines and smooth arches. 

In another book that I’ve read recently, “A Guide to Better Movement”, the author, Todd Hargrove, says “There is something about a large range of motion that is pleasing to the eye, and this is why dancers and gymnasts get into the splits a lot.” He also says that in “graceful movements, even small subtle movements, affect the whole body.” and he mentions that efficient movement is perceived by humans as more beautiful and that “we can identify efficient movement by looking for arches and not angles. (...) sharp angles followed by flat lines is a sign of weakness, whereas smooth arches indicate strength.“ And in positions that I feel the most graceful and beautiful in my body is often shaped in long smooth arches. That was exactly the effect that strappado had on the ties on a single point because it was adding a long arched line of my arms to it, creating elongation where normally only short and jagged shapes would be present. 

But, there is the beauty that is “easy to see” and there is the one that needs more effort to be noticed. Many ties on a bamboo, especially the ones stretching and twisting the model, are conventionally beautiful in the sense that I have just described, they shape the body into smooth arched shapes. Also, because bamboo makes the shape rather two-dimensional (even though striving for three-dimensionality in a tie usually adds to its beauty), it is much easier to create with it something that looks good on a picture. While, when it comes to a single point, the positions lose a lot when they are shown only from one angle. In that sense, bamboo seems to make the rope work more like a painting, while the single point is more like a sculpture. That is not to say that one is better than the other, but that they are different media and that influences how they look but also my experience as a model. Both me and Asiana do not find the ties on a bamboo more beautiful than on a single point but we do recognise that they show different aspects of me and of our interaction. While the first one is often graceful, elegant and pleasant to look at and it usually leaves me feeling cathartically ‘reborn’, the other is twisted, ungraceful and struggle-inducing and through that it shows my human beauty in it’s more obscure aspects. 

There is a lot of beauty to be found in kinbaku, both as a practitioner and as a spectator. There is the simple and straightforward and the deep and obscure. There are ties that look almost the same but are completely different because of a small detail of historic significance. There are ties that are visually beautiful and those in which the beauty is in the emotions of the model. There is beauty in rope photography, beauty in rope videos, in performances and in private sessions. And the more I practice it, the more I read and study, the more beauty I find in the most unexpected places. My personal need to learn how to appreciate kinbaku is not coming from a need to be more sophisticated or ‘better’ than someone else but from the respect that I have for this amazing craft (art) and the people who devote themselves to learning it. I want to give justice to the effort they’ve put into their mastery. I want to fully appreciate what my riggers give me when they tie me and what I see when I watch performers on stage or in pictures. And to do that, I need to develop my own taste for beauty in kinbaku. Because liking everything is like liking nothing. And I want to be a receiver and an audience that is worth creating for. 

Bibliography:

* Soetsu Yanagi, “The Unknown Craftsman”

** Kakuzo Okakura, “The Book of Tea”

*** A. Minh Nguyen “New Essays in Japanese aesthetics”

**** Todd Hargrove “The Guide to Better Movement”

Rope gives meaning to my pain

Photo by A-Nicolas

I sometimes wonder, or get asked, why do I like to get tied. It is a difficult question to answer because I like it with different people for different reasons. I like to be under the power of dominant men and suffering in their ropes is a way to express my devotion to them. I like to feel helpless and abused and rope is a great tool for my partners to make me feel this way. I like to serve, to please people with my being. I like it when people enjoy me. 

I could go on and on about it. The reasons why I enjoy rope are ever-changing but they are always strong. Without a strong reason to be in ropes, I could not show up for my partners and this is one of the worst things, I believe, a model can do. To not show up for the scene. 

There is one reason, however, that is the strongest, deepest and most personal of all. It is so deeply ingrained in my being that I believe that, in some way, it always shows up, even if my partners use it in different ways. 

Rope bondage is my laboratory for investigating vulnerability. It is a place where I research my openness and where I look at how it behaves in case I get rejected, toyed with or when my vulnerability is used against me. Can I stay with my partner regardless? Can I bear it and keep on giving? 

It is quite easy to be open and vulnerable with the people who you know care about you. In the face of deep and honest love our hearts almost automatically open up. But what if you give yourself to someone and they take your gift, throw it to the ground and crush it with their feet? Will you retreat into yourself to start licking your wounds? Will you close yourself up to them? Or will you stay with your perpetrator, blood soaking from the wounds they gave you, but you still loving them with your entire aching heart? 

There are two ways in which one can approach hurting other people. One can hurt them because one stops seeing humans in them like it is in the case of torturers or soldiers during the war¹. They are trained to see the people they torture and kill as objects, as a means to a goal, a necessary damage. They don’t feel with those they hurt. They don’t empathize with them. They don’t feel the pain of their victims. One can also hurt someone while feeling with them. One can acknowledge they are in pain caused by oneself. One can see their pain, go through it with them and let it transform one as well. Akira Naka sensei once said that he is not a sadist, that when he hurts the model he feels with her, he feels her pain. I believe him and at the same time, I would not necessarily say that it means that he is not a sadist. I believe that many kinky sadists feel with the people they hurt. Just like masochists can be transformed through their own pain, sadists can be transformed through the pain of the other, the one who is suffering for them. But to be able to go through that, they need to see humans in the people they hurt.

When I am being hurt, I want to stay human for the one who gives me pain. I want to stay when they rage. I want to stay when they torture me. I don’t want to escape what they are doing to me. I don’t want to leave my body and go with my mind somewhere else. I want to stay for them just where they’ve put me. I want to hold space for them. I want to withstand their storm and meet them at the other end with my arms wide open. I want both of us to be transformed by what I am going through. They are making all that effort to hurt me, I don’t want it to be wasted on me hiding away. 

I can imagine that hurting people is not an easy thing to do. It must not be easy to allow oneself to act upon the dark urges that hide within oneself, to acknowledge them and let them be expressed. I appreciate it when my partners do. I appreciate their bravery in revealing who they are to me. And I want to show it to them by staying open to their actions, staying open to whatever process hurting me triggers in them, allowing them to explore the dark corners of their psyche, knowing that I am there with them, that I am receiving everything they have to give me and I will not leave them behind in their dark night. We will see the light at the end together. 

I have a history of being hurt by people whom I loved. I have been hurt by them over and over again and I was always coming back. Back then, because I didn’t have a choice. I had nowhere to go. But at the same time, I also didn’t want to leave them. I could see they were hurting as well. I could see how lost they were, unable to behave any different. I accepted that and I kept on loving them despite everything they did to me. Because the possibility of closing off and leaving them felt even more painful than whatever they were doing to me. 

Rope provides me with a contained ritual in which I can relieve those situations from my past. You could see it as unhealthy. You could say that I should learn how to get out of my unhealthy patterns and take better care of myself. But I think that its exactly what I am doing. In ropes, and in kink in general, I meet the most vulnerable, the most hidden parts of myself and I give them a voice so that I can finally see the beauty that hides inside of them. I can finally see the beauty that is in my pain. 

Kinbaku is a space where, instead of turning away from my uncomfortable experiences, I meet them with my attention and curiosity. Where I ‘see’ them and allow them to ‘play out’ without any censorship. So that I can learn how they operate. So that the most hidden aspects of me can finally see the daylight and become integrated into the image I have of myself. So that there is no part of me that I feel ashamed of.  A rope scene is a space where I meet my demons and where they invite the demons of my partners to dance. Through my pain. Through my suffering. Through my challenge, we both find peace with who we are. 

I could be bitter about the fact that it is always me who is hurt but I am not because it makes perfect sense. I’ve spent so much time in my life experiencing pain, investigating it, toying with it and turning it around that I am ideally positioned to be its receiver. Pain is my old friend. 

You could say that I am doomed but I would rather say that I am blessed. I get to explore the parts of human experience that not many people have entered and left sane. I get to be the gate for my partners to places they would never otherwise have reached. 

I am a necessary piece of a puzzle. A rarely visited but wildly beautiful garden. It might be scary to enter at first but I will guide through it the ones who have dared to visit it. Finally, there is meaning in my pain. 

¹ Scarry, Ellain. The Body in Pain: The Making and Unmaking of The World. Oxford UP, 1987.

My sacrifice is a solitary space

Photo by theurbanchange.

I’ve been thinking recently about my ways to receive ropes. I say ways because they are different depending on who I tie with, my mood, their mood, the dynamics between us in that particular moment, the style that we tie in and many other factors. There are certain experiences that I crave and seek more than others, however. One of them is the feeling of sacrificing myself for the rigger. 

It happens especially in slow scenes full of suffering. The kind of scenes where the ropes are deeply torturous and I am given a lot of space to contemplate it. When I have time to sit with my agony and let it sink in. To digest it and let it transform me. These are the kind of scenes that require a lot from me. A lot of focus. A lot of energy. A lot of sacrifices. And these are the kind of scenes that I crave deeply. 

At the same time, these are not states that I take lightly. These are not things that I would do with anybody. To go that far and that deep, I need to be determined. I need to set myself on a road of no return. I need to make a conscious decision to transgress my limits because only there the real torment happens. Only when the pain and effort are beyond what I would willingly take, the ritual of my sacrifice can take over. 

It might seem like a beautiful and intimate act. That sacrifice. An act that is bringing me and my rigger together. An act that they should marvel over and appreciate me for. That would make me beautiful and precious in their eyes. This is not what I seek through my actions, however. I don’t seek connection. I do not do this for my rigger to see and appreciate me at this moment. I do it because I want to be in this very special space and sacrificing myself for them brings me there. 

What I am looking for is a solitary journey leading to a total resignation. A lonely path paved with pain and suffering slowly wearing off the joy and lightness from my stride. I am looking for the ultimate torment that will put the light out of my eyes. But I can’t get there if I have a companion on that journey. Because only solitary wanderers can reach that place.

I was teaching a workshop about kinbaku recently and explaining how being tied in a TK is the most important element of the session for me as it is the moment when I'm readying myself for what's about to happen. One of the participants after observing me in a demo said that it seems to them as if I'm very much on my own at that moment. That I've said that I do it for my rigger, but it seems as if I don't pay attention or connect to the rigger. As if I'm all focused inwards and on myself.

And I think that it's true what they've said. Indeed, my sacrifice is for the rigger but not with the rigger. I decide to do it for them because I want them to be able to use my body for what they've envisioned. Because I want them to enjoy the total control over my faith that they have at this moment. I want them to use and enjoy my gift. But I am not seeking to participate in their joy in any way. Even if they appreciate me at that moment, I'm not seeking to feel that appreciation. Because at that moment, I'm thickly covered in a veil of torment and I don't want it to be taken off and the light to be let in.

So I want my rigger to put me through the worst possible ordeal, bring me to the brink of my sanity and to leave me alone in there to suffer. It seems like you would have to be a heartless person to do such a thing. Yet, I see it differently. To me, letting me be with it alone is an act of trust and respect. Allowing me to deal with the experience that they are putting me through on my own shows to me that they believe in me and understand me. That they are able to receive the gift of my sacrifice. That they are able to hold it and will not bend under the weight of it. 

Having said that, it's not as if I demand that disconnection from my riggers. They are still the ones who lead the scene and decide where we are going. And if they decide that they want to be close to me and support me, they will and I will open up to them and appreciate it. It will ease my torture and allow me to feel deeply intimate with them. That feeling of being seen and for my suffering being witnessed is something powerful and beautiful to experience as well.  

But if they want to give me the space to be lonely in my sacrifice, I'll take it. If they're willing to take on these separate yet inseparably intertwined journeys, I'm here to join. It is a special act to participate in, being so close and at the same time so far away. This moment when each of you is feeding on the other's experiences, yet you know that in the end, you yourself are the only one who is the recipient of it. That you are completely alone in what you're going through, yet if it wasn't for the other person you would never have gotten there. 

I believe that at that moment the rigger is going through something similar. And I want them to be able to appreciate it fully without having to pay attention to what I'm experiencing. I want them to bathe in the solitude of power that they have over me as much as I am bathing in the solitude of my sacrifice. I want us to dance a dance of giving and taking, of yielding and control, of power and helplessness and get lost in it. Not seeing a human in our partners anymore, but a force, an idea, a space that is acting upon you and you're acting upon it. It is a solitary place to be in, yet being let in there by someone and meeting them again on the other side is one of the most intimate acts that one can share.

To me, rope is about eroticism

Disclaimer: This writing is an attempt at explaining part of what being in ropes is to me and what I get out of it. Because I am so passionate about it, I might at times sound like I think that this is the only way to do it or at least the best way. It is the best way for me, but I definitely don’t feel entitled in any way to tell other people what they should do in their bondage. What I will try to explain is why my practice of rope might not match with the practice of other people, why it might be difficult or even impossible to fit all rope practitioners into one community and why trying to do so creates friction that I think we are observing today. If you feel offended or attacked by me speaking my truth, I apologize. It is not my intention to offend anyone.

How ropes are erotic to me

I feel like I've been circling around this topic a lot, but I've never directly expressed it. So here I say it, to me rope bondage is an erotic activity. It can be more or less sexual depending on the circumstances but an element of eroticism is always there. 

I do find being bound by ropes erotic to the degree that I used to warn riggers who would tie me for the first time that I will most probably get sexually aroused during our session. I stopped doing that at some point because, somehow, I started assuming that before people approach me, they have already seen me being tied and have figured it out for themselves. But, to be honest, I think that I should continue to warn people about it because it is not a given (especially in the current circumstances). 

The eroticism of being in ropes is not something that I would admit easily, though. I am not proudly sexual in ropes. Rather, I usually feel like my arousal is torn out of me. Because the things that turn me on are not natural. And the fact that I am turned on by them does not make me feel proud.

Sometimes, I feel like I would rather not show this side of me at all, but in ropes, I can’t help it. Because being helpless and abused is sexy to me. I get aroused when I feel that I am at the mercy of the person who has tied me up. And the more things they do to me that I don't want, the more arousing I find it. I get excited when being degraded and humiliated. Being used and treated badly is what I find hot. At the same time, it makes me ashamed that by my reactions I might be giving evidence to how twisted I am. I find it disturbing that someone might discover my perverted sexuality. And, at the same time, it arouses me even more.

Many of these things are specific to me, though. Not everyone sees eroticism in ropes this way, and I also don’t tap into these states with just anybody.

There is also, in my opinion, a more fundamentally erotic side to ropes, which is in big part tied to the D/s or SM nature of it, as well as the visceral experience of being touched. 

I think that power imbalance in its essence is erotic. Being led is usually a charged experience. I can imagine that having power over someone is arousing and I can certainly say that someone else having power over me, is. Power imbalance creates erotic friction and what creates more imbalance than being bound and restricted by someone who can now control your body and through that possibly your mind? 

And then there is touch, which is an inevitable part of a rope bondage scene. The touch does not only come from the person who is tying you, but also from the rope itself. To me, the feeling of rope pressing on my skin is extremely sensual. I also find the pain that rope can cause erotically pleasurable. I am definitely a masochist, but I don’t necessarily enjoy the pain of impact play. The pain coming from rope bondage, on the other hand, is extremely enjoyable and often arousing to me. It is because of the closeness of rope to my flesh and the continuous embrace that it provides when applied on my body.

It is like a painful hug. It provides so much sensory and emotional input that it becomes a mixture of pain and pleasure, difficult to separate one from the other, and in its mixture, intoxicating.

How I find the eroticism of rope bondage its inevitable part

In my opinion, rope bondage is at its core an erotic activity. And although one can perform it in a non-erotic way, it requires an effort and a conscious decision to not go that route.

In hojojutsu, which is often considered one of the origins of Japanese rope bondage, as we know it today, being bound was an abuse carried out as an act of violence either to take away someone’s freedom or to torture them. Subsequently, the power imbalance and torture in the act of bondage was recognized to have a potential of being erotic by the SM practitioners and it started to be practised as an intimate act where one person binds the other, taking away their freedom, causing them pain or discomfort in a sensual way, and using their helplessness to perform erotic activities. 

Of course, the fact that in the past rope was used for the purposes mentioned by me above does not mean that it cannot be used for any other purpose. Nowadays there are people who practise rope bondage using tools and techniques coming from the erotic rope bondage but without the eroticism. I observe a similar phenomenon in tango. In its nature, it is a very sensual dance. It evokes intense emotions which are experienced intimately between you and your partner. You hug each other closely and one person (the follower) is in the power of the other (leader) in the sense that the leader dictates the actions of the follower. 

There are people, however, who do not dance in a sensual way and enjoy their dance that way. Looking at them you might still say that they dance the tango, as in, they use the same or similar patterns and they dance to tango music. They use the tools of tango, but they strip away its sensuality and potential eroticism. My question is, is it still tango or has it become something else?

The fact that you can take the sensual part out of this dance and still get something tango-like does not mean that tango does perfectly well without it. The fact that it seems like it is possible to practice tango without sensuality does not mean that it is not a necessary ingredient to really make it work.

Because when I see a tango dance like that, I feel like something is missing there. There is no ‘fire’ between the partners, the essence of the dance is gone.

Of course, that's my view as the sensuality of this dance is what draws me to it. I rarely enjoy my dances without it, but I don’t mind other couples dancing their way. I think that it is perfectly fine for them to dance the way they enjoy it. I do think, however, that it becomes problematic when people with different definitions of the dance meet together in one couple. Or when people start to demand from you to take that element out of your practice, because if they can do without it, it must not be its essential part. When people start to define the activity in a different way, but still call it with the same name. When the activity that used to be erotic and sadomasochistic by definition becomes many different things for different people and before you engage in it, you need to spend hours explaining to each other what your understanding of the activity is. 

I feel like rope bondage became so open and broad nowadays that that is what happened. Everybody has their own definition of what rope is for them. Everybody does it their own way but we are all part of the same community. It seems inclusive and open, but what it often ends up being for me is blurry and frustrating. 

How I see a rope community that I would feel a part of

To me, the advantage of being a part of a rope community would be to be among like-minded people where I don’t have to hide and pretend anymore. That we all ‘get it’ and I don’t need to censor myself when participating in rope events. But I don’t really feel that way.

Because when rope community is not anymore contrived only of a small group of perverts and SM and D/s enthusiasts, but artists, contortionists, yogis and all kinds of other people who do rope for their own reasons, the ones who belong to that small group of perverts will end up being too extreme to the others. They will end up having to, again, water down their needs and likes if they want to belong. They will have to hide and play themselves down the same way as they had to do in the wider society. 

You could say that it is fine. That they can leave their pervy erotic bondage to their bedrooms and private encounters and enjoy a more publicly acceptable practice when they are among fellow rope people. I, however, do not entirely agree. 

To me, a big part of the enjoyment of being bound is in being observed in that situation. One thing is being observed by the person who is tying you, which is an element of every rope session. Another is to be observed by perverted onlookers to whom you gave no direct consent for it. I find being in such situation extremely erotic and my impression is that in the old Japan (and maybe new as well, since rope there is still much more underground and perverted) it was often the experience of the model who would get tied in public.

The thrill was not only in her interaction with the rigger but also in having an audience who would watch the spectacle of her submission and torment. For whom she would play out their dark fantasies. And whose presence would allow her to play out her’s.

I can imagine that for a model it is an extremely intense and arousing experience. An experience that I dream of having. And although I’ve been tied in public many times, I have never felt like that. There have always been witnesses to my scenes that I felt like I was making uncomfortable or even shocked (in a non-positive way) by what was happening between me and my rigger. That they did not really understand what is being done to me and treated me like a poor victim or a circus attraction. 

Of course, that situation could provide me with another thrill. The thrill of being the centre of unwanted attention, the humiliation of being a weirdo. And as much as I can enjoy it at times, it is not what I am ultimately looking for. At least not each time when I’m being watched in ropes. 

How having people calling different things with the same name leads to trouble

I think that because the terms Shibari and kinbaku became so popular nowadays and because so many people are curious about it and so many people want to try it, we are losing the essence of what they really are (especially kinbaku as it is usually understood). We want to get accepted with our kinks and in order to get accepted, we try to make them more acceptable. We organize workshops on Shibari and kinbaku and not for a second mention the eroticism in them. We focus on patterns and techniques and forget about the spirit. 

And sure, we could say that the workshops are for practice and learning and later you can apply the techniques privately in an erotic way if you want to. But can you really learn kinbaku ties properly without having a kinbaku mindset while you tie them (or are tied in them)? Can you first learn the clean technique and only later season it with the eroticism? Will it be the same dish as the one that you would season right from the start? 

Should rope workshops be only about practising patterns and (maybe) talking about the philosophy? Don’t get me wrong, I do think that these things are important, but could we go back to perving a bit more and hiding a bit less? To using rope bondage for what it was made for and not trying to find new cleaner ways to practice it? Or at least give the people who do want to practice it this way some space and not call them snobs or elitists for not wanting to tie with anyone who asks or for refusing to tie at certain events? Some forms of bondage are for everybody, some aren’t. And I do think that it is important to get that clarification if we want to prevent accidents from happening and if we want to keep the community (or communities) healthy. 

The way I do rope is dark, erotic and sadomasochistic. I want to practice it on my own terms and I wish to find a community where this way is not only accepted, but also understood and encouraged. Where we can share our darkness and not hide behind another mask the same way as society demands us to do. 

It might mean that we need to go deeper into the underground, it might mean that we have to partly separate ourselves from the wider rope community. But if it also means that I might feel among (a subset of) rope people like I truly belong. That they will enjoy seeing my torment without feeling sorry for me. That they will not see me as a victim of abuse or a tourist attraction, but a conscious pervert acting out her fantasies and will be able to truly appreciate the beauty and the depth of my suffering, then maybe it is time to start calling the things that we do for what they are and stop putting everything into one basket? Without assigning value to any of them but simply acknowledging the differences and letting them flourish? 

To me, rope is about losing control

Photo by Dolph Vex.

I started bottoming in a community where the presence of active power bottoms was very prominent. I was surrounded by the notions of exercising for rope, stretching, managing your body in ropes and co-creating the ties with the rigger. In the beginning, I was trying to become like those models as they were the only role models that I’ve had. However, after some attempts, I started feeling like there is something in their approach that did not fit my personality and the reasons why I loved rope. The deeper I was going into rope bondage, the more certain I was becoming that this way of bottoming is not how I see myself in ropes. It was leaving too much control in the hands of the model (at least seemingly) and that was the opposite of what I wanted. 

At the same time, I did not see any alternatives for myself. I ended up feeling inadequate and like a failure. I felt like my approach was inferior to the other models and as if I didn’t contribute to the tying as much as the ‘active’ models did. I am very ambitious, therefore I could not stand feeling this way. At the same time, I had a strong conviction that I don't want to give up my (what I felt) real self in ropes for the sake of living up to the expectations and being among the ‘cool and enlightened models’.

As a side note, I have to make it clear that what I say here is extremely subjective and written from the perspective of how I felt about these things and not how my environment saw me. In fact, I have no idea how other people looked at it. I’ve mostly heard positive things from people around me about myself in ropes, but I think that because it seemed to me like all the most popular models are different from me, and because I could not find any voice that would resonate with me, I felt like my approach must be inferior. 
That was when I attended my first kinbaku and semenawa-centred workshop by Riccardo Wildties and WykD Dave and I’ve met their amazing models RedSabbath and Clover. Getting to know them really changed my perspective and I felt like I finally found successful models whose reasons for doing ropes seemed to be more aligned with mine and whose words and approaches were really inspiring to me. It seemed like, the same as myself, what they were looking for in ropes was to lose control. Ropes for them were inseparable from D/s, they were actually a tool to play out their D/s dynamic. They were not looking for the physical challenge as much as they were looking for a mental one. And that was in many ways how I felt about rope bondage as well. So maybe, in the end, I was not completely insane?

I don’t want to create a huge divide between the two approaches. Actually, I don’t even think that there are only two. I believe that there are many more, probably as many as there are rope bottoms. There are many flavours of bottoming and even I, as a single person, am not always the same in the way that I bottom. It very much depends on who I tie with and how. However, there are certain dividing factors between approaches to bottoming, the same way as there are dividing factors between different styles of tying. It doesn't mean that you always need to apply only one, the same way as, as a rigger, you don't always need to tie in the same style and mood. Riggers apply different techniques depending on their current goals in bondage. I believe that the same holds for the models.

Depending on why you do rope or simply what you want to get out of a scene, different skills/attitudes will help you to get where you want to be. I don’t think that there are some universal skills that a rope bottom should posses. I think that it is extremely dependent on what you want to achieve in ropes and what your motivations are. 

Recently, I’ve been discovering what my motivations are (at least for the bigger part of my bondage). I already wrote about ropes being a tool for me to challenge myself mentally and what I do in order to help the rigger in bringing me to my limits. Another thing that is quite crucial for me is how I see the power relation between myself in ropes and the rigger and how that affects my attitude in bondage. And that is what I want to talk about here.

I don’t feel empowered in rope

One of the important realizations for me recently was that I don’t do rope to feel empowered, but rather to explore my weaknesses. My goal of being in ropes in never to feel strong and I don’t feel as such when I am bound. It seems to be in contrast to many models that I’ve spoken to in the European communities. I often hear from models (both the physically active ones and the ones that have a more receiving kinbaku attitude) that doing rope makes them feel strong and beautiful. That they feel empowered when sustaining the hardship of bondage. That being able to meet the challenge gives them some kind of inner strength. I, on the other hand, usually feel miserable and violated in ropes, both physically and mentally. I feel bare and exposed. I feel vulnerable. And that is also what I am looking for. 

I think that this different mindset changes my attitude in ropes a lot. For me, being in ropes is one of those rare moments when I allow myself to feel weak and disempowered, to let my guard down and hand over the power over my faith to another person for once. 

I feel like if I would want to maintain a feeling of strength and empowerment in rope, it would require a constant fight against the circumstances. I would need to put my energy into making myself feel strong despite what is happening to me. It’s a bit of a mindset of standing still in the midst of the thunderstorm. It is a very noble and respectable one and I can imagine that it can make one feel good. It's not what I am doing, though. I rather let the thunderstorm sweep me away.

I feel like most of my life I am trying to stand still in the midst of a thunderstorm. I am fighting to maintain an image of a strong and capable person, to protect my dignity and to gain the respect of people. And as much as it feels good to succeed in it, it can also be very tiring.

Especially for me, since I am also strongly drawn to the feeling of being down, of dropping low in the ranks of society, of shedding off all the social and personal expectations and simply exist at the bottom of the chain, bondage is a means to explore those situations without hindering my day to day life. It’s my sandbox to explore the feelings of lowliness and disgrace. It's a moment for me to finally let go and just be. At that moment I find freedom.

And, paradoxically, being able to explore those dark places can have a very empowering effect in the sense of realizing one’s own resilience. When you get as low as is humanly possible, when you bare yourself so much that the audience can see your insides spilling out of you and you come out of it alive, that's a powerful experience. And it can lead to a feeling of empowerment.

You are like an insect that has just shed its carapace. At first, your outside is still very soft and vulnerable, but when it hardens it becomes even more invincible than the one you've just shed. 

You need to first go low in order to get to that point, however. You need to dare to be vulnerable and weak if you want to feel the kind of aftermath strength that I am talking about here. And you have to bear in mind that that feeling of strength might only come much much later or not come at all. That is because it is only a possible side effect of your experience, but not its direct result. Therefore, it should not be your goal per se.

I want to lose control

One of the most desired and pleasurable states for me is being truly out of control. Out of control over my body and, which I desire even more, out of control over my mind. And rope bondage is a perfect tool to achieve it as, whether we want to admit it or not, being bound means having our control taken away. 

People often talk about the model being actually the one who is in control in ropes because they are the ones who can stop the scene at any time. But is it really the case? Only, if we assume that the rigger will adhere to the social norms and let them out when they demand it. So the model can only maintain some level of control if the rigger allows them for it. Therefore, we (should) tie with people whom we trust that they will give us back our power when we request it. Because in the moment of being in their ropes, we are at their mercy. I wouldn’t really call it being in control.

I think that sometimes we lie to ourselves a bit, trying to make out of bondage something that it wasn’t made for and then being surprised when its true nature reveals itself to us in an unexpected moment.

Because as much as you want to feel powerful and in control in ropes, as much as you want to make a dance and a mutual exchange out of bondage, the truth is that by letting someone bind you, you hand the power over to them. Trying to deny it or to not seeing it might lead to painful disillusions later on.

Of course, I can imagine the kind of decorative bondage where the model maintains all the control over their body and the rope does not restrict them in any way. In that case, I admit that my words will not hold anymore. But in most styles of bondage, some form of restriction does take place, and therefore the model gives away some of their power to the rigger.

In a way, I do believe that most of the models are looking for that loss of control at some level, otherwise, they wouldn’t be intrigued by bondage. Being powerless is at the core of rope bondage and I think that it usually is the core of the activity that people are attracted to, even if they don’t dare to immerse themselves fully in it and only tread around it in their practice. I do, however, understand why one wouldn’t want to go for it all the way. It is one thing to be intrigued or attracted to something and another to truly experience it.

During an amazing lecture of Bergborg on Akechi Denki that I attended recently at the Prague Shibari Festival, he showed us a video where the Master says that “a woman who lets you tie herself is like a diamond and one should treasure her”. Hearing it in contemporary Europe one might think that the world has truly changed and it is not the case anymore. Because there seems to be a lot of models who want to be tied, a lot of people are interested in being a rope model. Finding a person who wants to be in ropes is not such a difficult endeavour nowadays. 

The question is though, are they really interested in all that it entails? Do they truly want to hand over the control over their bodies and their minds, and possibly lives to another person? Do they understand what they are signing up for? Or are they just up for a thrill, interested in what it feels like to be tied, but without the real understanding of what it might lead to and what it means to be bound?

I think that a model who is ready to truly give themselves to the rigger, who wants to go all the way, who realizes the potential that rope bondage has and still wants to explore it, is still a real treasure. Because handing over your body (and mind) for someone else to toy with is not a small thing. Having one's physical and (even more importantly) mental limits pushed is not a small thing. Being broken and rebuilt in captivity requires courage and a strong spirit. A responsible rigger will only go as far with someone who they trust will be able to withstand it. And I think that finding such someone is not a common thing.

I guess that it is quite obvious that I have a preference for rope that is dark and strongly rooted in D/s and SM. I am fascinated by the potential of rope bondage to challenge me physically and mentally. I realize that it is not the case for everyone and I don’t think that it should be. I do not try to convince everyone to follow my footsteps. I am happy that different people enjoy rope in their own ways. It's such a versatile and multifaceted activity that it can meet many different needs of different people, be it a physical challenge, creating art, exploring a D/s dynamic or simply having some fun.

I do have a feeling, however, that if you want to get to the core of rope bondage if you want to explore its full potential, if you want to squeeze out of your practice everything there is to squeeze then you will end up in a similar place to where I am at the moment. Because, if you think about it, the act of being bound has always been both a symbol and an enactment of losing control and giving up the power.

In old Japan, hojojutsu was used either as a martial art or as a symbol of defeat and being held in captivity. Afterwards, when the act of binding became aestheticized and eroticized in art, it was still an act of disempowerment and lack of control of the bound person that was a subject of the aesthetic and erotic pleasure (and the torment of being in such situation). And if disempowerment was at the core of rope bondage from its origin, I can’t imagine practising it truly without that part included (at least if you still want to call it kinbaku).

Of course, you can use rope for many other things, for connection, for sensory experience, for a feeling of flow, for the beauty of the form. I do feel, however, that doing so is a bit like taming a beast by knocking out its teeth. Sure, the result is that it won’t bite you anymore and you might even domesticate it, but that newly acquired pet will not be as wild, beautiful and mysterious as it was when you’ve seen it for the first time and became fascinated by it. 

And I am truly fascinated by the beast. I am drawn to the dark corners of human experience that rope bondage allows me to explore. I appreciate the environment which being in ropes provides me for exploring myself at my weakest and most helpless. I appreciate that it offers me the possibility to, for once, be different than society tells me to be, to stop fighting for my power, to let go of control, to allow someone else to decide my faith, to express everything that I should not express. 

To me, being in ropes is the moment when I stop playing by the rules. When I can finally get to explore the parts of my psyche that I was told I should not explore. I would not say that it is the moment when I finally become myself, but rather that it is the moment when I can try out the versions of myself that I haven’t been allowed to explore in normal life. I don't say that it is easy. I don't say that it is for everyone. I don't say that it is all fun. But to me, what I describe here is what draws me to rope bondage. That glimpse of freedom that you gain only when you finally have nothing more to lose.

To me, rope is about exploring the limits of the mind

I am currently trying to define what drives me in rope bondage so that I can understand better where I stand in the realm of rope bottoming and (hopefully) make it easier for people who hear my thoughts on it to interpret them and find a place for them within their own definitions. 

By no means is what I write about here set in stone. I am ever-evolving and it might be that in half a year my thoughts on the topic will change completely. Also, it is not an exhaustive definition of who I am in ropes. I only touch upon some aspects of my modelling here. Some others I talk about in my other posts and there might be more to come on things that I've realised recently and haven’t shared yet. Also, it is not that I am living what I describe here at all times. Some things that I talk about are more prominent in my modelling than others, but still, I am sure that there are scenes in which nothing of what I write about in this post applies to me. 

I do think, however, that what I am touching upon are some of the driving forces that drew me towards, and keep me with, rope and kinbaku. What I describe is like a compass that steers my rope journey. I don’t always follow the route that it indicates, but in the end, I always come back to it. It is what inspires me and partly what makes me in rope me. I am writing about it as a way for me to make sense out of it, but also to possibly inspire other people to think differently about their bondage. I am not trying to convince anyone that this is the way to do it (even if I sound like it at times), so please refrain from asking me to put disclaimers that it is a personal account and not a prescription on rope bottoming in general.

Disclaimer: This is a personal account and not a prescription on rope bottoming in general.

These are some of my reasons for doing rope bondage and my personal approach to it. I hope that you will have some pleasure from reading it and take from it what you feel like.

I want to explore my mental limits, but not cross them

The intensity of the experience in ropes for me often comes from dancing on the verge of my limits. And the limits that I'm talking about here are psychological rather than physical. I think that the difference between mental and physical limits is that the first ones are way more fluid and situation dependent. Also, for me, the latter is often driven by the former. I can only push myself so far for the sake of a physical challenge, but when pleasing my Dominant comes into play, or simply suffering without any control over it, I turn out to be capable of way more than I thought I am. 

Pushing one’s mental limits is a very delicate matter. It is quite easy to realise that you’ve damaged yourself physically, but when it comes to psychological damage, things get murkier and much more complex. That is why for this kind of exploration you need to be able to feel very well what is happening within you and you need to be able to communicate it to your rigger so that they know what they are doing.

Going slow and constant communication is the key if you want your rigger to be aware of how much they can push you at all times. If you act tough for the bigger part of the scene and push away the psychological reactions that they are causing in you, there is a big risk that once you finally react, you will already be too far, because your reaction will be a result of passing your limits and things spilling out of you uncontrollably. And that is what you want to avoid. If you both go slow, however, and if you are both attuned to each other, you can get to really amazing places without using extreme tools for that. Sometimes less is more and the deeper you both are immersed in the scene, the less you need to do externally to make the other feel. It is more a matter of depth of immersion than the strength of the act itself.

I often observe riggers in workshops going very far very quick with their models. For example, in Soptik’s and mine recent workshop on Humiliation during the Prague Shibari Festival, there was a simple exercise of tying an upper chest harness that had a humiliating aspect to it. That was all that Soptik did on me (tied the chest harness), and because of his clear intention and small details in his behaviour, my reaction to the tie was quite strong. When the participants’ turn came, they went (as Wildties would say) byzantine. They started tying models faces, hanging things on them, exposing them and going into verbal humiliation. All because they wanted to get a reaction. However, the reactions of most of the models were not as strong as mine.

In my opinion, the reason for that was twofold. First, the models did not allow their feelings to flow through them freely. They were blocking the feelings of humiliation or were simply distracted, waiting for the rigger to do something that will put them in the right mindset. Secondly, the riggers were doing too much without the right intention. Sometimes, doing less and slowing down is a much better tool for making the model tuned in than overwhelming them with experiences. It is like with tenderising the meat (My partner, Asiana likes to use that comparison when she talks about semenawa), if you progress slowly, it’s like marinating the model. You don’t need much to make her ‘tender’ (read: get a reaction) if you prepared her well. If you haven’t prepared her beforehand, though, you need to strike really hard to get the same result, additionally substantially increasing the risk of causing damage in the process. 

As a model, I can’t do anything about the intentionality and intensity of what my rigger is giving me. I can, however, work on my own mindset to make it easier for them to work with me. Therefore, in a rope scene, I am usually trying to give the rigger all the information possible for them to be able to push me in the right way.

For that, I first focus on receiving the information from within myself, sensitizing myself to be able to read it and then I try to communicate what I am feeling to the rigger. Of course, I don’t only do these things to make the life of the rigger easier. For the bigger part, I do it because it allows me to reach the states that I am looking for. 

First and foremost, I want to feel

The most important reason for me to do rope is that it makes me feel. And the feelings that it can elicit are exactly the ones that I am looking for in BDSM: misery, helplessness, lack of control, surrender, submission, resignation, arousal, humiliation, objectification, fear. A skilled rigger can make me feel all these in a rope scene. And much more. 

I have an impression that because the progression in a rope scene is much slower than, for example, in an impact play scene, and there are many times when I am in a way left to myself, there is a lot of time for my mind to process what is happening to me and build its own story around it. I believe that that is the reason why I can get to as complex emotions with rope as I do with verbal play (which I really really love exactly for the level of emotional complexity one can achieve with it). In rope, instead of my partner enchanting me with their words, my head is doing it for them, manipulating my emotions and creating complex scenarios based on the actions of the rigger. So far, I haven’t found any other form of play that would allow for such emotional complexity as these two.

I want to feel as intensely as possible in my play. And the way to achieve the intensity for me is either by the level of the emotion itself (as in, intense fear or intense pleasure) or by its complexity. The latter often being more interesting for me. And because I am specifically looking for feelings and emotions, I try to make myself especially sensitive to anything that might elicit them. During a scene, I tune in into my bodily sensations and my feelings, all my attention focused on reading and interpreting what the rigger is doing to me and how it affects me. It happens not in the sense of actively analysing it in my head, but rather letting their actions affect my body and through that speak subconsciously to my mind and my heart. 

Finally, I don’t only want to feel strong emotions, I am not waiting for the fireworks. I want to experience everything there is to experience. I want to squeeze all the possible feelings that I might out of the scene. I don't only want to experience the end state, but the entire process that brings me there. I want to feel every little crack in my surface.

Also for that, I sensitize myself. Again, I tune in into my body so that I don’t miss any possible shift that might provide me with a new reason to feel, however small it is. I don't push away any emotion, I let them all in. The good and the bad, the strong and the weak, the overwhelming and the subtle. 

I let my feelings out

I tend to be very expressive and I think that there are a couple of reasons for it. One is that because I'm so focused on receiving and interpreting, all my attention and energy goes there and I have no energy left to hide what is happening inside of me. All of it is consciously directed somewhere else. Also, when you feel so much without pushing it away, it becomes in a way natural to also express it. If you open up so much to what you are feeling, it can be overwhelming at times and sometimes the only way to stay sane within this experience is to let it out. Otherwise, you'll end up like a pot that's about to boil over. It's better to lift the lead up early on and let the steam out gradually, as it comes. 

During the Prague Shibari Festival, I listened to a great lecture of Bergborg about Akechi Denki in which he mentioned an article that Akechi' s model, Katsuragi Ayano, wrote after performing with the Master in the Netherlands. In the article, you can read how surprised she was about the European virtue of stoicism in models. She commented on the model in a show preceding theirs taking a heavy whipping without any reaction, and how the audience seemed to appreciate it, while after their performance where she was screaming and crying, the organiser had to calm down the public and remind them that what they’ve seen was consensual. I think that things haven't changed that much since then. Stoicism and even a certain kind of serenity in ropes are still very appreciated in Europe. We value people who can take difficulties calmly and with composure. We value quiet models who endure silently.

Unfortunately, I am not like that. I let out everything that I feel inside of me. I tend to be very expressive. When something hurts me, I scream, when I'm aroused, I moan and when I'm desperate, I wail. And for that, I have been criticised in different communities. That I am too loud, too dramatic or that I invade other people's spaces at rope jams with my expression. 

I understand the critique. I definitely stand out often and my reactions are frequently not compatible with what other people around me are looking for in ropes. The thing is, though, that what I do is simply not overwriting my natural reactions with politically correct ones. Being in ropes (especially in a suspension) is an extreme experience. You put your body in a state of heavy distress, sometimes even terror. I don't want to shut down my feelings to appear more graceful or more strong. I am not going to diminish my natural reactions in order for my rigger and the audience to be comfortable with pushing me further. I want to feel what I feel and I want the rigger to be able to witness what they are doing to me. I don't look for pride in swallowing my reactions and in appearing tough. In fact, I don’t look for pride in bondage at all. My goal is to be moved, to feel as deeply as possible, the expression of it being just a side effect.

Finally, I want my rigger to be able to understand what they are doing to me. We are playing a delicate and risky game and I don’t want to mislead them in anything. Even though it seems like they are the culprit and I am the victim, to me it is more as if we are partners in crime. We both want to bring me to my limits and we both want me to experience intense emotions. In order to do it in a conscious and informed way, I want to cooperate with them. 

I think that if one looks at modelling qualities, the context is extremely important. While there might be some general objectively desired skills that every rigger should have (being able to tie with the right even tension, having muscle memory of certain ties or at least some passages of a tie etc.), I recently grow more and more convinced that for models it’s not the case (with the exception maybe of being able to monitor the most basic safety indicators). However, it doesn’t mean that the models have no input in rope bondage. Quite the contrary. 

In my opinion, I have an enormous impact on the scene as a model (and if some riggers would like to challenge me in this statement, please bring it on). Depending on what I want to get out of the tie, I can facilitate myself in it or make it more difficult for myself and for the rigger. That is not to say that I direct my rope scenes in any way (I think that the people who have seen me being tied would agree that trying to direct my rigger in any way is the last thing that I do), rather I try to remove all the obstacles from my side that might hinder the rigger in bringing me to where I want to be (and where they want me to be). 

And because for me the mental challenge and the emotional aspects of rope bondage are very important, I do everything in order to make it easier for the rigger to give them to me. I do my part and I hope that they will do their part as well. What I do doesn’t necessarily make sense in absolute terms, but it certainly does in the context of what I am looking for. 

Because if you want to feel, you should let yourself feel. If you want to share your emotions with someone else, you need to let them in and allow them to witness you. And finally, if you want to explore your limits, doing so gradually and with awareness is the way to go if you don't want to get hurt (too much) in the process.

Thoughts on my approach to rope modelling after my first ever public rope performance

Photo by anonymus.

I can't even express how privileged I feel to have given my first rope performance as a model of amazing Soptik in the School of rope run by Kirigami and Tenshiko in Milan. It was a small and intimate show, intended for the audience to experience a real session that could happen between the two of us in private. Around 40 people were allowed to have a peek into our dynamic (almost) without a filter. And I believe that for some it was an intense experience. Maybe even as intense as it was for me.

I expected my limits to be pushed and to suffer. I expected to be exposed and ashamed. I expected pain and I expected desperation. It was all there. What I didn’t expect, though, was the amount of emotional courage and vulnerability that it takes to give a performance like that. I didn’t expect how emotionally exposed will I feel afterwards. How fragile, and weak, and defenceless.

After the show, people came to us, and between praising the skills of Soptik they also praised how strong and beautiful I was. Hearing that made me weirdly confused. It completely didn’t match the way I felt during the performance. I did feel that I showed and gave a lot. I did feel that they could see a big part of me bare in the open. But I didn’t feel that my strength or beauty was on display that night. Rather the opposite.

This dissonance made me think of my mindset in rope and how it affects the experiences that I have.

Preparation

The first thing that I realized was that this entire show was a sacrifice for my rigger. From the moment that we entered the School of rope, I was readying myself for it. Even though, a few hours before the show I was slightly nervous, the moment we arrived at the school, I quietened. My mind became calm and still. The mental preparation for taking what was waiting for me at the hands of Soptik began.

I wanted to be ready for him. I wanted to be empty. To feel everything that he wants me to feel and let his actions flow through me. I didn’t even do it consciously. It just happened. Only afterwards when I was reflecting on the experience, I realized the reason for my quiet. I also realized that I do it often before tying, even if not to that degree. Before the scene, I usually do everything to avoid talking and to have a moment of silence and preparation. I like to just sit quietly in seiza with my head down and wait for the rigger to start tying me. To be ready for him when the tying begins.

Sacrifice

No matter how much it seems like I enjoy rope, being tied is always a sacrifice for me at some level. I don't think that I have ever had a scene which I've done for my own pleasure. My mindset in rope (and when I bottom in general) is always the one of giving and not the one of taking. I enjoy rope but not in a straightforward manner. My pleasure comes by proxy from the pleasure of the rigger.

All I want is to please my rigger. If he wants me to be beautiful, I will try to be beautiful. If he wants me to be disgusting and twisted, I will be. I will go through anything for the sake of the pleasure of the other if they are willing to accept my sacrifice. And I like that feeling of sacrifice. It gives me a strange satisfaction and makes my offering more valuable. If I would be doing something that I deeply enjoy then what is there to be of value in it for the other? I would be doing it for myself and not for him.

Paradoxically, not many people are good at accepting such sacrifice. Often they want the model to enjoy themselves at some level as well. They don't want to have a feeling like it's all about them. They don't want to feel like they are forcing me into something that I don't want. Soptik is one of the most graceful takers that I know. He really is perfectly comfortable with accepting any kind of sacrifice, no matter how big it is. He takes it with appreciation, but without a feeling of obligation to repay. That makes me feel very relaxed in my giving. I know that with him I don't need to pretend that I want what he wants. I know that he will just take it from me no matter what my feelings about it are. And somehow that is very freeing. I can purely focus on him and let go of myself completely.

Violation

Another feeling that ropes often cause in me is being violated. Partly, because that's what ropes do, they take away one’s freedom and restrict one’s body. Often in a painful manner. Partly though, I feel violated because that is how I want to feel and I'm especially looking for signs of it in every moment of the scene. In my head, I amplify the violence and inhibit tenderness or pleasure.

I don't think that how I feel about being in ropes is universal. I've spoken to many models and basically each one of them had different ways of experiencing the ropes. For some it was a pleasure, for some it was an expression of love and devotion, for some it was a challenge and for others a means of torture. I think that I am the closest to the tortured ones, although it's not exactly that. Being in ropes makes me feel like a prisoner. Captured and helpless. It makes me feel completely without control. The violation is more that of my personal freedom and expression than of my body. I feel violated, because it feels like rope grabs all the emotions that are inside me and rips them out of me, to the outside world.

And even though I surrender to it, it's rarely a peaceful surrender. It doesn’t go without an inner fight. At some level, it always feels forceful and against my will. And that is another thing that Soptik doesn't find disturbing, while many do. That's why with him I don't feel like I need to soften my feelings and bring myself to enjoy what is happening to me. I can simply relax into the violence that is inflicted upon me and observe what it does to me.

Expression

Ropes make me feel a lot. I go through countless emotional states in one scene. From resignation to denial, to desperation, to devotion, to disagreement and finally, surrender. I can go through cycles of the same emotions repeating over and over or uncover a new and surprising emotional landscape unfolding in front of me as I go deeper and deeper.

And, somehow, I don't want to have these experiences alone. I don't want to go through them silently, buried deep inside of myself. Because it's my rigger who ignites these experiences in me and I want him to know what he is causing. I want him to know what I am going through. I want to move him like I am moved. That is why I let my body express what I feel. I want him to see and hear what's inside me. I want to talk to him with my moans and my silences. I express physically what can't be expressed with words.

Sometimes my expression is loud, sometimes it is subtle. There are things that are obvious and some that you can only understand if you are a very avid listener. It is always directed to my rigger, though. Somehow I have a deep need to be seen and understood by him. I think that that is what drives my need for outward expression. A need to be seen and understood.

In a rope performance, however, it is not only the rigger who reads you. It is also the audience. Contrary to what I expected, though, it didn't change much in my expression. I was, still, mainly trying to communicate with him and not with the audience. I wanted him and not the audience to see me. Not in the sense that I would rather be somewhere else, where the audience couldn’t see us. But in the sense that I didn’t think of the audience as a recipient of my message. They were not my target. He was.

That was during the performance. Afterwards, however, I realized how vulnerable such open communication and expression made me feel because it was in front of an audience. They had access to something very private and personal. They could see an expression of what is buried very deep inside of me. They could see the expressions of my emotions and feelings that I don’t necessarily want people to know about. Even if most of them, only Soptik could read.

I am not saying it as a bad thing. I don’t regret showing anything on the stage. What I am trying to say is that I was surprised how much it affected me. How much it costs to be so honest. I will keep expressing myself like that because I think that it is beautiful and it lets me experience something very profound in some ways. I will strive to stay honest in my expression because there is nothing else that is worth showing in my opinion. No matter what are the costs involved. But now I am more aware that there are costs.

Perversion and shame

One of the reasons why it makes me feel so vulnerable when people watch me in ropes is that I find my needs perverse. It's not that I don't accept them. I don’t wish that I was different. I don’t wish that I was not masochistic or not submissive. I think that both are beautiful and poetic and romantic and let me experience things that I could never experience not being like that. But I still don’t find it normal. I think that I am not normal. And showing it to other people, no matter how open-minded they are, hell, even showing it to my Dominant, makes me feel very vulnerable and in some way ashamed of myself.

I am not a proud pervert. A happy one, yes, but not proud. The lack of pride is definitely related to my kinks, which are, among others, shame, humiliation, degradation and abandonment. Feeling like what I am doing is sick enhances these feelings and adds to the experience. It is like with the Forbidden fruit, it tastes better when you are not allowed to eat it. I want to feel like it is not allowed to do what I do and then do it anyway. I don’t want to feel accepted. I want to feel like I am at the margin of society. I want to feel different and cast out.

Recently, I’ve participated in another great workshop from @Wildties, on what the Spirit of kinbaku is for him. One of the things that he mentioned about the Japanese models, is that for them ropes are deeply perverted. Even porn actresses, for which being stuffed with dildos, getting enemas and having the most twisted sex are their daily bread, in ropes feel like a ’fallen woman’. They often even use rope sessions as a way to punish themselves for what they do in their daily lives. They don’t do ropes to feel cool. They don’t brag about the scenes they’ve had. They keep it in the realm of true perversion, better not to be talked about.

I feel quite similar about doing ropes or my other kinks. Maybe not to that level, also because in an environment where I am, what I do is much more accepted. However, even within an open kink community I rather go for the less accepted and more risky types of play, like emotional masochism and deep and intense D/s dynamics, degradation and objectification. Because I always want to feel that thrill of being slightly sick. I don’t want to feel like what I do is acceptable and normal. I want to feel out of the ordinary and in some ways shocking.

That is also why it was so difficult for me to show it to people. Even though it wasn’t the first time when people have seen me being tied, also not by Soptik, but the fact that the spotlight was on us and that this time my perversion was clearly on display was very powerful.

The fact that Soptik could do anything to me and that I was willingly letting him do it, was to me on some level shameful. It is not what society teaches us to do. We are taught to be independent and self-sufficient and fight for ourselves. There was no fight in me. I was allowing it to happen to me willingly. I was openly admitting how twisted I am. And it didn’t make me feel proud. It didn’t make me feel strong either. No matter how it looked on the outside, on the inside being in rope for me is my moment of greatest weakness. It is my moment of giving myself to the other person entirely. It is my moment of dropping all my boundaries, of a total loss of control. And the fact that I enjoy being so weak and miserable makes me feel perverted.

This performance made me realize a lot of things about myself and my approach to ropes and also made me realize better what is and isn’t me when it comes to rope bottoming. The same way as there are many styles of rope bondage, there are also many styles of rope bottoming. What I do is just one of the ways but I am happy to be able to see more and more clearly what my way is. In some ways how I approach rope is darker than for many others, I think. There is a lot of submission and masochism in it that are not necessarily essential to being a rope bottom. I also tend to go very deep and look for the emotional experiences much more than the physical ones. To me, that is where the true beauty of kinbaku comes from.

I don’t need everyone to accept or understand who I am, but I am happy that there are people who do and who can also appreciate my darkness. I hope that that performance was a glimpse into what I can be if paired with a rigger who can see and use my traits in the right way. To me, it was a spectacle of who I am as a model and who I am with Soptik and I am grateful to be able to show it to others. Even if I didn’t seem to be proud of it.

This song will always evoke memories of this performance in me:

Ordo Rosarius Equilibrio ‎-- Cocktails Carnage Crucifixion And Pornography Cd 2003. if you like Visit my Channel here: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCnROS...

My thoughts on objectification in Japanese rope bondage and the differences between the ways that the Japanese and the Westerners do rope

Disclaimer: This post is full of generalisations as I use them as a tool for extracting certain patterns. However, I must stress that I do not claim that it is a proper description of the way that people in Japan and in the West practice rope. Rather, it is an indication of certain tendencies which I do believe, partially, to be culturally influenced. When I talk about ‘The Japanese’ I draw most of my conclusions from my experiences with Akira Naka and Suzuki Iroha, Hourai Kasumi, Shigonawa Bingo and Yoshida Yoi, all of whom I have seen live. Finally, I believe that most of the attitudes that I describe here as ‘Japanese‘ are related to the traditional Japanese culture with its arts and crafts which is deeply influenced by Zen as well as Shintoism.

Some time ago, I’ve been teaching a workshop on objectification in rope with Soptik and during one of the feedback rounds an interesting statement was made by one of the participants. They indicated that they are currently mainly practising Naka style and therefore objectification was a very unnatural (but also interesting) way for them to treat their model. I was extremely surprised by this statement because the way that I see Naka style is that it is extremely objectifying. That is one of the reasons why I love to be tied in this style so much. Of course, different people might perceive the same ties in very different ways as this perception is usually the result of the intention of the rigger and the mindset of the model. However, the discrepancy in the perception of one style by the two of us was so big that it triggered me to investigate it more. 

In more or less the same time, I was a witness to a performance of a well known Japanese rigger, Yoi Yoshida, which, added to my previous experiences with Japanese riggers, made me think a lot about the differences (as perceived by me) in the way that (most of the) Westerners do rope compared to the Japanese. Combining both, resulted in some thoughts that I decided to word here.

By no means, it is an attempt at defining some ultimate cultural truths. Rather, it is a description of how I perceive certain things, very subjective and personal and definitely open for a discussion.

For the Japanese rope is a ritual, for the Westerners, it is an adventure

I have an impression that a lot of us, Westerners is often focused on the ‘newness’ in rope. We constantly look for new positions, new emotions, new forms of expression. We are always trying to innovate. Looking at the performances of the famous Western riggers, you can see that they always strive for showing something that is, in a way, unusual. They are afraid that if they don’t, they will appear boring. 

From what I have seen so far about the way that the Japanese people do rope, I feel like for them rope is not so much about the new experiences, but rather it is about one very particular experience. They do not mind repeating the same sequence over and over again. They don’t get bored with it. Rather, they recognise that, just as in a ritual, even though seemingly it is always the same, it actually never is. Even though on the outside the sequence of your movements looks the same every time, each of those times you are not the same and your partner isn’t either, and by letting your body flow in a sequence that is so recognizable, you can awaken deep and powerful emotions within, even without much effort on the side of the rigger, just by the sheer power of the archetype.

I often hear a critique of more traditional Japanese performances that they tend to be very repetitive and if you’ve seen one then you’ve seen them all. After seeing a couple, I can say that it is partly true, there is a certain universal dramaturgy to them, a certain flow that remains more or less stable. I find it fascinating, though. Watching it is like watching Shakespear's play on stage. On the one hand, it treats about the notions that you know like the back of your hand, on the other, these notions are so powerful and deep that you can never get enough of relieving them and there is something new to be found there every time you see it. 

New things are big and bold and exciting. They can make one feel a lot. Often though, they lack subtlety. The newness is so overwhelming that there is no space for nuance. Only once you familiarize yourself with a state, either physical or mental, can you go deeper into it and start to explore it in its fullness. Just as with re-reading a book or re-watching a movie. The first time, you are focused on the plot and you mostly follow the most sensational part of it. And only the following times, you start to recognise the craftsmanship of the makers and the beauty of the language used or the particular way the image was shot.

The Japanese focus much more on the path, while the Westerners have a goal in mind

Related to the above is my impression that Japanese people, in general, are much less goal-oriented and much more process-oriented. In their view, the entire process of tying is a goal by itself. When tying, they do not have a particular end position in mind, but rather a journey that they want to go through with the model. I feel like they are much more sensitive and aware of a time aspect of the rope scene and they appreciate it much more.

I think that models in general, both in Japan and in the West, are more aware of this time dimension as it is very hard for the model to dissociate themselves from the process of being tied and only see the end result. While the tie is constructed, you have the visceral experience of having the rope caressing or constricting you, which is basically what you are looking for as a model (at least most of the time, I think). You don’t necessarily want to experience being in a particular position, but simply being tied and the states that are related to it. 

For a rigger, though, it might be different as he or she might be much more drawn to focus on the end result if they are not tuned in with the model. My guess is that the source of satisfaction from tying people might either be your impact on the model, which will draw you more into the here and now or succeeding with finishing the shape that you had in mind which can be more future-oriented. Especially in our, western, culture, we tend to appreciate the successes, but not the path that leads us to them causing people to be very goal-oriented. And I think that often spills into the way we do rope. 

Even models in the West can sometimes be goal-oriented. I often see scenes where the model is just standing there, bored and absent-minded, waiting for the rigger to finish the tie and put them in the air, which then seems to be the goal for both of them. It is always such a shame for me when I see it because I think that they miss a lot of experience.

The Japanese seem to have a more internalized notion of passing time but at the same time, it’s continuity. They don’t see the world as a series of achievements and failures but rather as a constant flow of things. And it is reflected in the way they do rope. It is about the process of putting the rope on and then off and about the mental journey that it brings you on. None of the stops on that journey is more important than the other. Their sequence and flow are what brings you joy.

For the Japanese, the model is at the centre of attention but as an object of beauty

In my experience and understanding so far, Japanese riggers pay a lot of attention to the model, but not in the same way as we would do it. They definitely understand very well that the model, including their emotional state, is a part of the tie. While Westerners often focus more on the form of the rope itself, forgetting about the model that is in it, Japanese sculpt using the model, both in the physical as well as in the mental dimension.

Having said that, Japanese riggers don’t tie for the model, the way that Westerners often do. They don’t tie to give this particular model a particular experience, but rather to achieve a certain universal effect using the model they have at hand. That is why, I think that the Japanese way of doing rope is very objectifying, even though the emotions of the model often are at the core of it. How I see it, is that in the way that Japanese riggers approach rope even emotions get objectified. 

Especially when you look at the Naka style, which is very aesthetically driven, as Naka-san developed it in close cooperation with and deeply influenced by Sugiura Norio, the emotion of the model is very much a visual output. The aesthetics of his or her emotional response is crucial. Of course, it comes from within them and the rigger looks for their real natural expression. But still, the external beauty of it is at the core of the rigger’s interest and not their internal emotional process. That is why, in my opinion, the model in her entirety, emotions and all, is treated by the rigger as a beautiful object. 

The concept of ‘muga’ applies as much to the model as it does to the rigger

There is a concept of muga, selflessness, that is often talked about in the context of the riggers. That the rigger should be empty at the beginning of the scene. He or she should have no expectations and they should let the expression of the model and the tying itself fill them in and flow through them.

Many people understand it in the way that the rigger should be empty so that they can be there for the model. So that they are not self-centred, but model-centred. That they let the expressions of the model guide them. I would venture a different theory, though.

In my opinion, both the model as well as the rigger should be muga. The model should not have any expectations of the rigger or of the tie either. He or she should be empty at the beginning of the scene and let the experience itself fill them with emotions and flow through them, emanating to the outside world and inspiring the rigger. The way that I see it, they both serve a higher purpose, which is performing a kinbaku scene. They both sacrifice themselves in their own ways in order to create something that they both find beautiful. In that sense, I see the model very much as an object in the context of a kinbaku scene, because it is not about them expressing themselves, but about being the vehicle through which the rigger can express the beauty of the Japanse rope bondage. 

In the West, we often focus a lot on expressing our personalities in rope, on making the model feel a particular emotion or on pleasing him or her. My impression is that for the Japanese it is not the case. They do end up doing all these things (maybe except for pleasing), but they are all a by-product of a kinbaku practice and not a goal by itself. The Japanese don't strive for self-expression in the way that we often do. Rather, it comes from within them when their ego is quiet and when the time for it comes.

 
Finally, I want to stress that I am not trying to criticise the people who don’t strive to do rope the Japanese way. I don’t think that one is better than the other. I am not even sure if I should call it ‘the Japanese way’ as I don’t think that there is one Japanese way in the same way that there is no one Western way. What I mostly talk about here in terms of Japanese rope is what I experienced myself, which is seeing Akira Naka and Suzuki Iroha, Hourai Kasumi, Shigonawa Bingo and Yoshida Yoi or learning from western teachers who are deeply influenced by traditional Japanese rope Masters. I do think that, even though generalizations are never entirely true, an effort taken in producing them can give one a lot of insights about the area that they are trying to generalize about.

And for me, if I practice an art coming from a certain culture, I usually want to learn as much as I can about the culture itself because I think that in order to get into the core of the practice, you need to take its cultural aspect into account as well. And only after internalising it, can you make it your own. 

People often criticise the Westerners who are trying to be too ‘Japanese’. For me, there is something beautiful about it, though. There is this art that fascinates me and that comes from a very different culture. To me, it must mean that there is some link between me and ‘them’. And maybe by exploring and trying to live that culture, I will uncover what that link is and therefore uncover and incorporate that part of myself that was so drawn to it in the first place. 

Lessons on the poetics of kinbaku from Barkas and Addie

A while ago I participated in a workshop by Barkas and Addie on their interpretation of Yukimura style at the beautiful Atelier Simonet in Paris. The number of inspiring concepts in that workshop was so enormous that it took me a while to process them into a condensed form. I finally did it and here are the most important thoughts that were born during or as a result of the workshop.

They are not general truths about kinbaku (do general truths about kinbaku even exist?), but rather concepts that can be inspiring and help one to get into a certain mindset. To me this workshop was eye-opening in many ways, the crown jewel being the first concept that I am going to talk about.

Rope bondage is in its essence a form of a dance

Throughout the workshop, we did exercises that were circling around this idea, even though we didn't talk about it specifically. One time, Barkas said that the aim of doing rope for him is 'to move his partner so that he is moved as a result'. And isn't that what dancing (at least partnered dancing) is?

When dancing, we move our bodies, put them in certain positions in order to evoke feelings in ourselves, in our partners and in the audience. In rope, we do exactly the same. And even though the music is not an essential part of a rope scene, we still move in a certain rhythm, certain tempo when tying. A good scene should be timed well, the ropes and the body manipulations coming at exactly the right moment and not randomly. Only then, you can get into the feeling of flow with your partner and get lost in the fluidity of your experience.

We dance to the silences and to the rhythms of our hearts. To the sounds of our breaths and the ropes caressing our bodies. We don't interpret the music that we hear outside of our bodies, but the one that is within us.

Another 'dancy' element in rope bondage is the presence of a leader (the rigger) and a follower (the model), which we also observe in many partnered dances. The rigger proposes to the model to put their body in a certain position, to which the model gives an emotional response. They respond with their interpretation of the position in a form of an emotional expression, which in turn moves the rigger.

One of the most beautiful and important concepts that I learned from my tango teachers was that in tango the leader provides a structure, a frame, into which the follower pours their emotions. The follower fills the dance with their passion, inspiring the leader and moving them emotionally. And it is an essential role of the follower as the leader already has to think about the structure of the steps and managing their and their partner's positions on the dancefloor. If they have to focus on filling the dance with emotions as well, it will be simply too much put on their plate. Therefore, it's the role of the follower to fill the empty frame of the steps with beauty. I like to think that in rope bondage similar rules apply.

Rope bondage is more about leading and following than it is about rope

One of the more interesting exercises, illustrating how much in the end rope bondage is about leading and following, was an exercise where we were tying without ropes. Barkas asked the riggers to tie one of the classic Yukimura style ties, but without using the ropes. It was a partial suspension with the model lying on her side, involving a TK and with one leg of the model raised. The challenge was not to force the position, but to use your will, the time, the context and the mind of your model in order to get them where you want them to be. Surprisingly, it worked very well.

When both partners are focused on each other, when they understand each other’s vocabulary (which was partly fixed here because of the context of a rope scene) and when the roles are clear, the rope becomes in a way redundant. Of course, using rope does give an opportunity to create shapes that without it would not be possible, and causes an enhancement of the experience, but they are not essential for creating the experience itself that being in rope is.

No matter how weird that might sound, rope is only a tool and not the central point of a rope scene. The central point is to experience the connection with each other, to move and to be moved, to assert and fill the roles of a rope bondage scene and see where it will bring you. And as Barkas showed us, you don’t necessarily need rope in order to achieve that.

The torture of Yukimura style is not about being captured, but about being (almost) free

Contrary to, for example, Naka style in which the model is often progressively bound tighter and tighter until at some point she can barely move, the ropes in Yukimura style are quite loose and the model has a lot of freedom. This creates an illusion of having a choice and as a result captures the mind of the model, not allowing him/her to let go. It's more difficult to accept what is happening to you when you constantly feel like you could almost free yourself.

In Naka style, the ropes often form a tight cage impossible to miss and the model feels very acutely that they are captured. Paradoxically, this immobilization of the body often allows the mind to let go and free itself.

Yukimura style feels more like a house arrest in which you wear an electronic bracelet tracking your location. There are moments when you feel like you are completely free, walking around the house, but then you touch the border of your invisible cage and you are reminded again that you are not. In this way, you relive the realization and drama of being captured each time when you are reminded of your captivity. Because of that, you are stuck in this experience, and it's very hard to let go and accept your faith.

Additionally, the combination of eroticism, shame and humiliation which are ever-present in Yukimura style together with capturing of the mind can be very powerful. Giving the model an illusion of freedom makes the shame and humiliation much harder to accept because they feel like they could almost escape it, and because of that, the feelings become even more intense.

Good technique is a means to gain the trust of the model

At certain points throughout the workshop, Barkas would give some technical tips and tricks to the riggers. What was interesting for me were not the tips themselves, as I'm not a rigger and I don't intend to be, but the reasons he gave for applying them, which was gaining the trust of your model and lulling them into a sense of security. If you have good technique and you know how to handle your rope and manipulate the body of your model, you seem like you really know what you are doing. And that is what the model needs in order to trust you.

As Addie mentioned, technical things in rope are something that you don't notice when they are done right, but you acutely notice when done wrong. It breaks your trust, as a model, because fiddling with rope and doing unnecessary movements gives an impression that the rigger doesn't know what he or she is doing. And that definitely makes the model doubt whether they should put their health, and possibly life, in the hands of this person.

I like this approach to stressing the importance of good technique to the riggers because it gives the ‘why’ that makes sense and has a depth to it. You don’t want your technique to be good in order to impress someone or to stroke your ego. You want it because it is needed in order to gain the trust of your model, which in turn will result in amazing scenes.

Once again, the models and their reactions should be at the centre of attention

This notion comes back over and over again in my learning, yet so little riggers apply it. It doesn't mean that you tie for the model but that your goal is to elicit a reaction and not just tie a certain pattern.

Barkas told us an interesting story of how he was trying to learn one of the classic ties of Yukimura sensei and how he kept getting it wrong, but he didn't know why. He would think that he tied the tie perfectly and then Yukimura sensei would come and tell him that it's wrong again, adjust the rope a couple of millimetres and then walk away, content.

Barkas couldn't figure out how to repeat the exact pattern of Yukimura sensei successfully since it seemed like he was so deadly precise. Until one day when sensei was showing him the tie again, he started to look at the face of the model instead of the ropes. And then everything became clear. It was not a pattern that Yukimura sensei was looking for, but the expression on the face of the model. If he achieved the result that he was looking for, he was content. The pattern was not always exactly the same, it would change depending on the day and the model, but the end expression was.

So please riggers, remember to look at your models when you create shapes with their bodies. The models are a part of the tie and only if they fill your ropes with their being, will your tie become a perfection.

Rope scenes are Other Spaces where the reality is governed by different rules

During the workshop Barkas mentioned at some point that in his opinion rope scenes are heterotopias. In terms of Foucault definition:

Heterotopia is a certain cultural, institutional and discursive space that is somehow 'other': disturbing, intense, incompatible, contradictory or transforming. Heterotopias are worlds within worlds, mirroring and yet upsetting what is outside. - Wikipedia

Looking at the above description it's hard not to agree with him. Entering a rope scene transports you into another dimension, in a way. In principle, you still are in the same real tangible world, in a room or any other physical space where the rope scene takes place, but at the same time, your and your partner’s minds travel somewhere completely else.

Rope allows you to let go of your day-to-day worries and immerse yourself exclusively in your sensations and the connection with your partner. It takes away the physical freedom of the model, often causing them to go inwards and confront what's inside of them and what they were trying to avoid in their daily lives. As for the rigger, I can imagine that it also frees their mind as they become hyper-focused on the model and because of that let go of everything else.

Also, the rules and norms of everyday life don't apply in ropes. It's a special space where it is ok to take away the other person's freedom and at the same time to be intimate with them, to open up fully to the other person and allow them to penetrate or even violate you. It's a space where you can let go of the social norms and adopt new (often D/s-governed) ones. What is interesting is that through rope any space can become a heterotopia. Once we enter into a rope scene in a certain space, we transform it into something ‘other’, which is governed by different rules and where time and space are distorted.

According to Foucault, the function of the heterotopia is unfolding between two extremes: between providing an illusion that exposes the real world as still more illusory, and providing a space of perfection to compensate for the flaws of real life. I think that in rope we can see both these extremes and anything in between. On one hand, by creating an illusion of certain situations (being captured, violated) it elicits emotions in us, which feel real, even though the threat is not. Thanks to that, it lets us reflect on the nature of emotions in general and might give us some space to evaluate what we feel in real life as well. On the other hand, it gives us an opportunity to get lost in this perfect moment of connection, to forget about everyday life and experience a pure moment of connection with another human being.

Silence is also music (or there is no such thing as silence)

At some point, Barkas was recalling a story of a composition by American experimental composer John Cage, entitled 4’33’’ in which the musicians do not play their instruments during the entire duration of the piece and the music is created out of the sounds of the environment that the listeners hear while it is performed. The point of the composer was to show that any sounds may constitute music.

I think that another interesting thing about this piece is that the sounds of the environment indeed become music for the listeners because their attitude is that of listening to a piece of music. And because of this change of perspective, they become much more sensitive and attentive to sound, and they start to notice and listen to something that they would normally ignore.

One of the things that Barkas was trying to make us realize is that in rope there is no such thing as lack of tying (even if the rigger does not make any movements). Throughout the duration of the scene, each position of the rigger has a meaning and communicates something to the model, making them feel. A break in tying or a lack of movement is also a form of communication. It also makes the model feel.

The same way as when musicians didn’t play, the audience started to listen to what is around them, when you don’t actively move the model emotionally, they start to be moved by their own emotions. You provide space for them to feel what is inside them, and because of the context of taking part in a rope scene and being highly attentive to what they are feeling, they go there. And it can be a very powerful experience. Therefore, the rigger does not always need to induce the emotions on the model by constantly moving their body or adding more rope. By stepping aside a bit and letting them experience the ‘silence’, they can also make them feel a lot. It can be difficult to step back sometimes, but ultimately it can facilitate an even more powerful scene.

We will never be able to read each other 100% correctly and that's ok

We also talked about the fact that no matter how hard you try, you will never be able to tell 100% what is happening in the head of your partner, but it is alright because such accuracy is not needed. When tying together, we both tell ourselves stories about what is happening to us and to the other person. We also try to read the story of the other, guessing from their body language what is happening to them. Not all of these guesses will be correct, but as long as they are not completely off and you can get the general direction of where your partner is, you can try to direct them where you want them to go.

You will never find out for sure if you succeeded, though (you can always ask afterwards but then their recollections might already be distorted because of your question). Like with a book or a poem, the moment your actions leave your body and try to influence the other, they start to live their own life. Your initial purpose is dead and the model starts to interpret them in their own way, like a person who reads a poem would. Most of the time your intention will be preserved in some part but new meanings will be added to it. And that is beautiful.

It always reminds me of the fact that even in the most intimate moments between the two people, you can never become one. There is always this barrier of the two minds getting close to each other, but never close enough. It can make you feel sad and lonely, but it can also make you appreciate how special it is when for a short moment you do manage to get close.

Even though what Barkas and Addie were showing us was so different from the rope that I usually practice, there were also some repeating themes from other teachings that I followed, like the focus on the reactions of the model instead of the ties, the importance of breaks in tying, the importance of good technique, the strong D/s element in the bondage and the eroticism of it.

It seems to me that Yukimura style in Barkas interpretation is extremely focused on mental domination and manipulating the emotions of the model, more than on the actual ties. Personally, I find it absolutely fascinating and thrilling. I love how because of the simplicity of the rope in this style, the entire focus is on the model and the art of creating something beautiful with their emotions. And I love the recognition of the beauty that is in the shame and humiliation.

This workshop showed me that, indeed, there is a lot of poetry in kinbaku. It made me slow down and see the beauty in the details. It made me think of what kinbaku is and what it isn’t, and reorganize my own ideas about it. And because it was so different from what I usually do, it enriched my practice of kinbaku in new and unexpected ways. And I am grateful to Addie and Barkas for that.

Considerations on what constitutes the matter of kinbaku from Riccardo Wildties and RedSabbath

I've been extremely lucky to have recently participated in an unforgettable workshop, Xtreme Xclusive: Matter from Wildties and RedSabbath, as a model of one of the most talented riggers and amazing people that I know, Soptik. I don’t think that there is a need to add how huge influence it had on me and my development as a kinbaku model. Enormous.

Even though I’ve been worried about not being able to follow it, because of an arm injury that I’ve experienced at Eurix a week earlier, I survived all the challenging ties without a scratch (oh well, maybe a few) and had an amazing experience.

There are a couple of important realizations that arose from that workshop, that either have been shared by the teachers or other participants or just came to my mind, that I would like to talk about here.

Riggers

You learn the rules in order to break them at the right time

It was really fascinating to listen to Riccardo telling his students to break almost all the rules that he had taught them before. In his other workshops, he teaches how to execute Naka style ties perfectly. He explains each position and placement and teaches the standard way of tying that tie. Here, he was showing how to get out of the standard and break the perfection in order to express the mood and intensify the connection.

Because perfection is not what kinbaku is about. It's actually about the opposite. By breaking the rules you show your personality, make the tie yours. But you have to know how to apply the rules before you can break them. Otherwise, you are just ignorant and what you are doing is not showing personality but incompetence.

But when the time is right and when you reach the level of mastery that can inform your choices, sticking to the rules of a style religiously will prevent you from truly expressing yourself and the mood of the moment in your tying.

One tie does not rule them all

People in the West tend to learn a pattern and apply it thoughtlessly to every model, without consideration of how he or she is looking in the tie. Riccardo kept challenging the riggers to go beyond that habit and really look at what they've created so far and at their model in ropes and put the rope where they feel and not where they think it should be.

This created an entirely different experience. Both aesthetically, as it created more beautiful ties, but also mentally for us, models. You could feel that you are a part of the creative process of the rigger, instead of just being the means to his goal of putting your body in a certain position, that he is working with you and not despite you.

If you want your ropes to be clean, you need to clear your mind first

Riccardo kept saying that the riggers have to become more Japanese in how they are tying. It wasn't about conceptualizing the Japanese aesthetics, though, but about clearing your mind, so that you can let the inspiration flow through you.

There are certain standard ties that Europeans are able to tie in a Japanese way because they know the pattern well, but any time they try to deviate from the norm and change something, they become, as Riccardo calls it, ‘gothic’. That's because they think too much about the ropes, instead of observing and feeling them.

In Japanese aesthetics things are never perfect, there is always something unfinished, asymmetric, breaking the pattern. At the same time, those changes are very subtle. No big deviations, but rather small imperfections are what make the tie yours without losing its initial form. But only having a clear mind will let you see and feel the subtleties.

Using the right tie to evoke the right emotions in the model has everything to do with technique

I think that this was one of the most interesting concepts of this workshop because it's a paradigm shift for many riggers. People usually equate rope technique with their command of rope. The more ties you are able to execute, the neater they are, the faster you are and the better your rope handling skills are, the better your technique. It's partly true, but Riccardo shifted the focus, by saying that what good technique ultimately is, is being able to evoke the right emotions in your model at will.

Just as a brush is a tool for a painter, the rope is a tool for the rigger. And just as a painter paints with colours, the rigger paints with the emotions of the model. For a painter, knowing which brush to choose is a part of his technical skills in the same way as for the rigger is choosing the right tie.

I love this approach because it shifts the focus of the riggers from their ropes, which is a mere tool, to the models, which are the canvas. And that adds so much depth to the experience.

You should tie for yourself and not for your model

This concept might be a bit controversial, but I fully agree. I've heard it for the first time expressed by Soptik in his workshop 'Soptik's rope' during the Prague Shibari Festival last year. In the workshop, he had an exercise in which he was encouraging the riggers to tie something that they've always wanted to do, but they've never done because they thought that the model will not like it. He was asking the riggers this one time to tie for themselves and not for their models. To do whatever they feel like and see how it changes their experience.

A similar attitude was indicated by Riccardo during this workshop. He said that he always ties what he feels like and not what he thinks that his model (or the audience) wants. Only then he can deliver at his best. Even if it means tying the same tie over and over again, he will do it, because deviating from it will result in something suboptimal.

I love this approach because it intensifies the D/s dynamic enormously and it's very fulfilling for me as a submissive. The rigger has the power to do whatever he wants to do and he is executing it. He is in control. As a submissive, that's exactly what I want. If the dominant is focused on my comfort or pleasure, then the power dynamic is lost, because it is me who becomes a more important part of the equation. The balance is reversed.

If he ties for himself, I can feel that he is truly enjoying himself thanks to me. And that's extremely fulfilling and ultimately more enjoyable then if he would care for my pleasure directly. Also, it makes it more worthwhile to suffer through difficult ties. I make it for him and not for myself. And that makes all the difference.

Models

Surrender is not the same as dissociation

At some point, there was a question from one of the participants about how the surrender actually looks like, and why Japanese models are often so squirmy while in surrender, and Western models usually calm down and become less reactive in the same state of mind.

An immediate response that popped into my head and that was spelt out by NawaTaNeko seconds later was that surrender is not the same as dissociation. The models in the West often dissociate instead of surrendering, meaning that they distance themselves from their internal experiences, which often results in a freeze response, while surrender is actually opening up and letting all the experiences in. Surrender is an acceptance of your inner experience instead of its denial and that often leads to a strong external expression, which you can observe in Japanese models.

Another point that Riccardo raised was that in the West riggers are often not able to be there with the model if she is expressing her emotions. Squirming or screaming often leads to ending the scene. Therefore, models teach themselves to go more inwards, because they do not want to worry the rigger. Which is a shame, because by silencing themselves they might lose part of the experience.

Of course, every model is different and expresses herself differently. Some models naturally go more inwards. I, on the other hand, tend to be very expressive, which I used to treat as a sign of weakness, watching other models being so peaceful and calm. I even felt like my squirminess and being loud might be treated as a sign of disrespect towards my rigger. Like it might be taken as a complaint, which it definitely isn’t.

But watching more and more amazing models, like RedSabbath or NawaTaNeko, suffering and expressing themselves during semenawa sessions, I realized that there are power and beauty in strong self-expression. Being expressive means that I am not afraid to open up and to show what I am going through and that I want to incorporate the rigger in my experience. I am not expressing my feelings because I'm not able to take the tie otherwise. I am expressing them because I am fully open and I let everything spill out of me. I have nothing to hide. I am fully surrendered to my rigger and to the experience that he is giving me. And I trust him that he will stay there to witness me in it.

Showing true surrender inspires more than a thousand words

During the workshop both Ale and Riccardo were very tired as they've just come back from almost a month-long tour around the world. Partly because of that and partly because it's not her style, Ale was not talking much.

Two times during the workshop Riccardo asked her to describe her experience. Both times her descriptions were brilliant and so on point (I wish I was so articulate when my partner asks me to describe my experiences… I usually just say "It was tough, I thought that I can't take it, but I could."). But still, my impression is that according to the current standards of model involvement in a workshop, that's not a lot.

Even if she didn't talk at all, though, her presence and how much she was giving of herself was the best inspiration that I could get. It was amazing to see her take everything that Riccardo was putting her through, to see her break in relief after a difficult tie, to have her showing us her bare emotions. I can't imagine a better example of true surrender. The moment you see something like that, you think "I want to be so beautiful and strong for my rigger as well". And you are.

There is somehow this misconception nowadays that there is not enough verbal content for the models during the workshops. That 'modelling skills' should be talked about almost as much as ‘rigging skills’. Surely, there are certain technical skills that help in being a rope model. And surely, they are more or less important depending on the style that you're being tied in. But I refuse to acknowledge that the only valuable content that a model can bring to the workshop is verbal content. That if 'modelling skills' are not being talked about, then there is no modelling content in the workshop.

Not everything needs to be talked about. Being a rope model, especially for semenawa, is such a strong internal somatic experience and it's so individual that observing someone else in it might actually be much more powerful than having it being explained to you. Because it's all about the feeling, about getting out of your head and into your body, into the experience. And having your head busy with analyzing whether you are activating the right muscles only gets in the way sometimes.

Respect your models because without them you wouldn't be able to tie

I loved how much emphasis Riccardo was putting on being grateful to Ale and all the models for giving themselves to their riggers. I have a feeling like this aspect is often missed, as the role of the model in Naka style seems so passive that we sometimes forget how much it takes to do these things. And it's not even so much about our technique or physical strength, but about our mental power and endurance. Even though we are not learning any technical skills, we allow the riggers to use our body and we train our minds to be able to take more and more so that they can become better in what we both love.

There was a very touching moment, after one of the emotionally very challenging ties when Ale was coming back to her senses, and some people started chatting loudly without respect for what had just happened. It must have been difficult for her, as it might make her feel like people didn't care about her experience when she was at her most vulnerable. Riccardo immediately took notice of it and asked people to be quiet and respect her headspace, which they did. I think that it was really beautiful and showed how much he cared about her. He did understand how much she was giving of herself, even if others didn't.

Of course, I know that a workshop is a special circumstance and as teachers (and as participants) you can't give each other as much care as you normally would if it was a session. But still, it's important to remember that, especially in semenawa, the emotional toll on the models is really high. We are tough and we can take it, but even small signs of appreciation really make a huge difference. The fact that I almost cried when at the end of the workshop Riccardo thanked all the models for their dedication is a good indication of that.

Showing appreciation for my suffering and letting me know that he sees my efforts is exactly what Soptik was doing during the entire workshop. Thanks to that I was able to take more for him than I would ever have thought I could and really surrender to all the experiences that he put me through. And I am really grateful to him for his support and recognition even amid the most technically challenging exercises. I felt truly seen.

I had already been in love with Naka style, but this workshop had made my love even stronger. Even though it was supposed to be a very technical workshop, it evoked a lot of strong feelings in me, because it’s impossible to fully separate the matter from the spirit in kinbaku. And the ability of Riccardo WIldties and RedSabbath to explain and make us understand something as esoteric as kinbaku is truly extraordinary. We need more teachers like that.

Last but not least, I have to mention this unforgettable quote from Riccardo here because we need not forget that in the end, kinbaku is a perverted art invented by dirty men wanting to do dirty things to innocent women:

Explaining his tie, ‘fucked up Gyaku ebi’, “You want to see the boobs, the ass and the face of the model all at the same time."

Isn't that poetic?

There is so much sadness in me, it’s almost spilling over the brim

It’s interesting what you can find when you stop doing for a moment and start feeling yourself instead. I’m trying to do it more lately, and one of the things that I’ve found is an enormous sadness. Not depressive, my-life-sucks kind of sadness. I think that I have a pretty good life. More like a calm and appreciative sadness.

I guess that I am strange (who isn’t though?), but I really enjoy being sad and being with that feeling. Whenever I can choose, I'll always choose a sad movie, a sad book, sad music. I love the complexity of negative emotions. There is just so much more to be felt there. When you're happy, you're just happy. It's very simple. Nothing to think about and analyse there. Feeling down is an entirely different story. There are so many shades of pain. So many thoughts and feelings to be experienced.

Maybe I am wrong though. Maybe it's just that I became so familiar with the negative emotions that I can see all the different shades of them, while happiness is so rare and overwhelming for me, that I can’t appreciate its richness. It’s like when you taste something new and you just get hit by the unfamiliar flavour, not able to taste all the nuances. Only once you get familiar with it, you start to taste all the subtle tones and differences. Maybe that’s it, I don’t know. But I don’t think it really matters.

What matters is that I like sadness. It feels familiar and soothing. And in the end, it’s just a feeling. All feelings come and go, some of them are pleasant and others are not. It just so happens that what for me is pleasant, for most of the people is not. Matter of taste.

Since I remember, I’ve been like that. I have never hidden from negative emotions. Whenever something difficult was happening in my life, I would dive headfirst into it and into feeling what it does to me. I guess that I am the opposite of a person who suppresses their emotions. I kind of amplify them and go all in. Of course, it also means that I experience joy very strongly. But it so happens that it’s not something that takes place very often. Or maybe I just don’t focus on it.

I think that it has a lot to do with my tendencies to push myself. I basically live on the border of my comfort zone the entire time, constantly diving outside and exploring what is there. And usually, when you dig deep in your psyche, there are more wounds to be found there than soft spots. I think that there are no people who didn’t experience some emotional pain that scarred them in a way. There are just different ways of dealing with it. My way is to bathe in the wound.

I am not doing it in a picking-on-scabs kind of way though. I am just sitting with it and taking it in, feeling all the emotions that arise and letting them wash through me. Because they are important and beautiful and they also have a place in life. And who said that happy feelings are better than sad? Why is laughter considered better than crying?

I guess that my point is that sadness and negative emotions, in general, are more natural to me than happiness and I don’t think that there is anything wrong with it. More than that, I think that it brought a lot of amazing things into my life, like tango, kink and most importantly rope. Because what drew me to all of them is the melancholy, the darkness, the despair and the suffering that is at their core. Of course, they don’t have to be practised this way. I know many people who find happiness and fun and joy in their play, who dance to embrace and connect with the other person, to share intimacy with them. I also know people who do rope in a fun and relaxed way, to enjoy the sensual experience and the closeness with the other person. I am not one of those people.

That is not to say that I don’t find joy and happiness in my practice. I do. But I only find it and appreciate it when it’s mixed with pain and suffering. And that is also what I am looking for. I am not doing rope or dancing or kink because I want to feel good and have fun. I am doing it because I want to feel hurt. I want the heartache. I want to be immersed in melancholy and sadness. I am putting myself bare out there so that my partners can really touch me. I am fully open and vulnerable because I am not afraid to be hurt. I am not afraid of pain, of rejection, of loneliness. In fact, I am looking for it.

Of course, it’s not like I am searching for my heart to be truly broken. I don’t want to be truly hurt. That is why I love kink so much because it allows me to experience all these negative feelings in an isolated and emotionally safe (more or less) way. But I am not paralyzed by the fact that I might be hurt. And that gives me strength. It gives me the strength to know that I can be with the good and the bad. And it feels good to be comfortable with these yearnings that are so deep in me. To recognize them and appreciate them. To see myself whole.

Because sadness does suit me very well. I am a natural in suffering. And I am pretty when I cry.

Lessons from the Masters of kinbaku, Akira Naka Sensei and Iroha Shizuki

Disclaimer: I am going to refer to the rigger in a male form and to the model in a female form throughout this writing for the ease of formulating my thoughts, but of course the gender has nothing to do with the role and I am not trying to imply that it does.

Recently, I had the privilege to take part in a kinbaku workshop from Akira Naka Sensei and Iroha Shizuki for the first time. I can’t even express how grateful I am for being able to see and experience Naka-san and Iroha-san live, and to be immersed in the beauty that they created together during those three unforgettable days. I am sure that I won’t be able to put into words everything that I’ve learned during the workshop, but there are certain things that were really impactful for me, and I want to preserve at least those here.

Kinbaku is about climbing the mountain together

I think that this was the most important and beautiful message that I took from this workshop. Kinbaku and semenawa are really about going through the hardship together. It is not about torturing the model with your ties, but about evoking the beauty that is in her, using your ropes, and feeling with her.

It was really beautiful when Naka-san shared with us how difficult it is for him to hurt his models, how compassionate he is for them and how he is suffering together with them. Semenawa is not about sadism. The point of it is not to hurt your model. You can do it in many other ways. The point of semenawa is to experience the suffering together with your partner, in order to come out of it stronger. It is about being there for each other, both partners willing and open and vulnerable. Both attuned to the needs of the other. Both fulfilling different, but complementary roles.

Of course, when practising semenawa, the rigger inflicts pain and suffering on the model and they both must be enjoying that aspect as well. But it is about more than that. I think that the point of Naka-san was that even though it's all consensual and they both enjoy it, it doesn't make it less difficult to cause another person pain. You need to have compassion for the person that you are hurting, you need to be able to read them and get into their skin. Otherwise, you will simply abuse them.

During the performance of Iroha-san and Naka-san, you could really see that they are giving everything to each other. And how that moment makes them stronger. The moment when the suffering ended and Naka-san took Iroha-san in his arms was one of the rawest and loving gestures I’ve ever seen. I truly appreciate how open and vulnerable they were with us. They didn’t withhold anything. And I think that this is what makes them so unique.

It was really special, when the day after the performance, Naka-san was telling us how much he feels for Iroha and how practising kinbaku makes his love for her even stronger, and you could feel that he was actually insecure when talking about it. He really opened up to us, and even for him, one of the most respected masters of kinbaku, it was a difficult moment. To me, it was really touching and proved his honesty.

It’s not about the patterns, but about extracting the beauty of your model in every moment

In each exercise, Naka Sensei repeated that the point of the exercise is not to replicate the sequence that he tied, but to get inspired and then adjust it to your model. Every person and every body is different. He wanted riggers to learn to look at their models, get the pattern out of their head and really be there with the model, with her beauty, feel what this moment needs to make it special.

He did create patterns for the purpose of the workshop but in general, he doesn't think in terms of patterns. After the initial position was finished, it was really fascinating to see how he moved from there, observing Iroha-san, adding and changing lines, each time accentuating her beauty and only moving forward when he felt like what he created was the best what he could do in this moment.

I think that riggers often get carried away in their pursuit of a certain position. They focus on the tie itself and forget about the person in their ropes. They are more driven by the end-result then the process, missing the beauty of the moment and the unique opportunities that each model and each moment gives them.

Naka-san repeated endlessly not to force anything. He was asking riggers not to let their ego get in the way, but to tie to their abilities, as it will create a much better experience, both for the rigger and for the model. Also, Iroha-san mentioned how unfair it is that the riggers often make models feel guilty if they can't take certain ties that Naka-san created, while they definitely shouldn’t feel guilty. They are there for the riggers, willing to give them their body and to suffer for them. The riggers should appreciate it and make the best out of it. Especially because usually if the model can't take something, it more often than not is because of the riggers technique lacking. Therefore, they should be humble and look at themselves first, before judging and blaming the model.

There is no one definition of kinbaku

Naka-san stressed that for him kinbaku is very individual. Each person has their own approach to it and their own point of view. He ties what feels natural to him, but he doesn’t think that his way is the only true way. He might not understand or have a feeling for what other people in rope bondage are doing, but it doesn’t make it any less valuable. In the end, each scene and each encounter are unique and should be treated as such.

Another thing that he mentioned, and that was very interesting, is that there is no final destination in kinbaku. It is a never-ending process. And for each person the path is different, and the point where they will end up will be different. For him, as a professional, the road will definitely not be the same as for someone who does it as a hobby. And it is fine. Each person chooses their own path and should not try to get ahead of himself. It is better to enjoy the process.

Both the rigger and the model should be grateful to each other and respect each other

It's really amazing how humble and appreciative of the model Naka-san is. He kept repeating how the riggers should appreciate and be grateful to their models for letting them tie them up. That the models are not their slaves (even if sometimes they like to play that they are). They give themselves to the rigger out of their free will and they deserve respect and gratitude for that.

Iroha-san was also saying that the models should feel free to communicate to the riggers anything that feels wrong or puts them in a position that they don't like. They shouldn't force themselves into things that they don't enjoy, just to please the rigger. They should like what is happening to them. Otherwise, they will start to hate kinbaku after a while. As a model, your body and mind are in some way being abused and if you don't enjoy it in some way, then it might quickly turn into a trauma. Without open communication, there is no kinbaku. It's simply an abuse.

One time, when Naka-san was putting the first wraps of the TK on Iroha-san, he revealed that it's one of his favourite moments because he can be so close to the model that he can almost hug her. Then he started joking that maybe while for him it feels amazing, the model suffers, thinking that she wants that perv away from her. Then he told the riggers that they need to stay healthy and clean, otherwise, their models will really feel like that and will hate them. It was a joke but it shows how self-aware and humble he is. Even though he is one of the best riggers in the world and there are tons of girls who dream to be tied by him, he still cares about the impression that he makes and the comfort of the model.

Kinbaku can be a risky art and you should be conscious about the risks that you are taking

One day, Naka-san told us a story of the rope that he is using. How he was looking for weeks with different sellers to find the right kind of rope for kinbaku. How he finally found it with Ogawa, and how they became popular thanks to him. How some people are complaining about its smell, and that it's not suitable for tying people. How nowadays you can buy rope that is specially made for kinbaku. And how in his opinion the people who buy this kind of rope are missing the point.

Because kinbaku is not supposed to be normal. You use the ropes not what they were created for, and it's an essential part of it. You do something perverted, dirty. You transform ordinary ropes into your tool of torment for the model. In this way you build their history, you make them special because of the way you use them. You will not obtain the same feeling with ropes that are made especially for kinbaku. They are too proper, too ‘clean’.

There is no lying to ourselves, kinbaku and semenawa are perverse and they bear risks. More than that, the perversion and the risks are what makes them exciting and beautiful. They are at the core of the practice. If you tie in a way that is safe and comfortable then the spirit of kinbaku is gone. Because it should be difficult and painful. Your ropes should be abusing the model in some way. In the end, kinbaku is a D/s practice.
And sometimes you take risks for the sake of beauty. You tie less safely because it is more aesthetically pleasing. It happens and it's perfectly fine. But when it happens, both the rigger and the model should be aware of what they are doing. It should be a conscious risk-aware decision of both partners. And until you are able to assess all the risks, you should put safety first.

As a model, you surrender to the tie and the rigger

Semenawa is not a power struggle. Rather, it is an expression of the model's surrender. The moment you let the rigger tie you, you already belong to him. Once in ropes, all you can do is to accept your faith and to do it gracefully.

The ties in Naka-san style are difficult and painful. They can also be exposing and objectifying. It is not a kind of rope that you would do with everybody, the same as you wouldn't enter a D/s dynamic with everybody. If you (as a model) decide to tie in this style, you need to be willing to suffer for the other person, to give yourself to them. And for that, you need to trust that they are going to respect your gift and care for you.

In almost any form of rope bondage, the model is in the power of the rigger. She can struggle, but in the end, the rigger has all the control. But I think that the difference between overpowering rope and semenawa is a bit like the difference between doing CNC and D/s. In both cases, the bottom doesn't have any power. But while in the first case it's being taken away from her, in the other she hands it over willingly.
And this is one of the things that makes Naka-san’s style so alluring to me. It is such a beautiful and deep expression of a D/s dynamic that exists between the rigger and the model. It’s a kind of rope that you can’t do casually. It requires an absolute devotion from both sides. And an immense amount of trust.

Semenawa ties are meant to be really challenging. They are asking the model to give everything of her. Personally, I am not able to go so far if I am doing it for myself only. If I tie for the sake of beauty or to challenge myself, I can only go so far. But when I am doing it for someone else, when I'm suffering for my rigger, only then I can overcome my limits and truly surrender to the tie. The fact that I am doing it for someone else, gives me an additional strength to persevere and to enjoy my perseverance.

Lots of lessons learned during this workshop. It's so inspiring to see how one of the biggest masters of kinbaku and his model approach rope. The way they talk about it made me see many things more clearly and put others in a completely different light. Especially, because kinbaku is a part of Naka-san and Iroha-san's culture, seeing them and hearing about their approach really changed my perspective on this beautiful art.

I'm not Japanese and I will never experience being tied in a way that a Japanese person does. And that's ok. But still, I feel like one of the keys to understanding what it is that draws me so much to kinbaku is understanding the culture that it comes from. Therefore, I'm so grateful to Naka-san and Iroha-san, not only for sharing their approach to rope with us but also for being so open and vulnerable and sharing so many beautiful stories. This experience was definitely a milestone on my journey.

Lessons on kinbaku and semenawa from Wildties, RedSabbath, WykD Dave and Clover

In September 2018 I participated in a unique workshop from Riccardo Wildties, RedSabbath, WykD Dave and Clover. It was a really unforgettable experience as it's in general unheard of to have two such great riggers teaching together and comparing their approaches in front of the students. I want to share my story of that experience, which contains both the knowledge that the teachers shared with us as well as my interpretation and loose thoughts on it.

The goal of the workshop was not to learn particular ties, but to understand better the language of kinbaku and to find your own voice in it. I loved everything about it. I loved how they were trying to explain and show what kinbaku is to them. I loved the abundance of concepts and the depth of thought that was presented. And I loved how open and honest the teachers were.

There is no kinbaku without fluent technique

The first day was all about technique. But not in the sense of learning complex technical ties. It was rather about the importance of perfecting your basics. And I couldn't agree more with the teachers.
Both Wildties and WykD Dave were stressing how everything starts with the basics. In Europe people often like to learn a lot of complicated patterns, thinking that it's an indication of how good they are. But copying the pattern without understanding it and being able to use it to evoke feelings is pointless. At least in the sense of kinbaku.

Kinbaku is not about rope. It's about using the rope as a tool to evoke sensations and emotions in the model. And to be able to do that, you need to have a perfect command of your tool. You have to not only know what you are doing but also why are you doing it. You have to understand the reasons behind every movement and placement of rope and perfect it so that you can apply it intuitively.

Of course, this way of tying requires a lot of devotion and practice. Real methodical relentless practice, where you repeat the same movements over and over again. Just applying the patterns that you've learned in play is not enough. You need conscious lab time when you tie the same thing repeatedly and analyse it.

As a model, I agree wholeheartedly. There is something very special about the way that the rope is used by the most experienced riggers that I’ve tied with. And it is not at all about the ties that they put me in, but about the fluency and deliberation with which they do it. The level to which they can control the rope. It almost feels like the rope is just an extension of their body. Their entire attention is on me and not on the tie. The level of connection that it creates is one of the best things that I’ve ever experienced in play.

This workshop made me realize that in order to be able to experience that, I, as a model, need to give space and opportunity for my riggers to practice. I am usually all about play and I might sometimes put pressure on people to always make it playful when they tie with me. I also am very fortunate to tie with amazing riggers who are at a level when practice is usually also play for them. What they are perfecting now is the communication through rope, even when they tie complex things. But still, after listening to Wildties and Dave, but also Clover and RedSabbath, I realized that the best thing that I can give to the rigger is my attention and honest feedback. And for that, I sometimes might need to tune down the play mode. I'm ready to do that if that means that it will lead to even more connection and better play in the future. So, my dear riggers, please tell me when you would like to tie with me for practice and feedback. I'm all yours also for that.

Fundamentals of kinbaku

After we discussed what you need to practice in order to make the rope a means instead of it being an end, we went on to talk about the actual end.
What is it that you want to communicate with your partner? And how can you use rope in order to achieve that? Rope is very versatile and the things that you can express with it are almost endless. But there are certain emotions and concepts that it is basically made for communicating. And these are at the core of kinbaku.

Distance and space

Space is very important in Japanese rope bondage. You can express a lot using it. Your model will experience different things depending on whether you are near or far, in front or behind her, but also above, at the same level or below. All these factors have also different impact, depending on how strong the dynamic between you and your model is. If it is strong, you can move further away and the model will still feel your presence. There is more trust in her that you won’t abandon her and you can play more with the subtle changes. If she doesn’t trust you yet, already a small distance can have a big impact.

So you can say something by distancing yourself from your model. But you can also use staying in touch to send a different message. By keeping the tension on the rope the entire scene, your model can feel your presence, which is both reassuring and asserting control. The moment you lose tension in the rope, you create distance. You should keep it in mind when tying, that anything that happens with the rope has an impact on your model. Dropping the tension is for the model like losing touch with the rigger. It can be a very powerful experience, which is not necessarily bad, as long as it is intentional.

Timing

You can express feelings using tempo, meaning both speed and rhythm. The same tie in a different tempo will have a very different feeling for your model. The change doesn’t have to be big. A subtle change can have a big impact if it is executed with care and your model is attuned to you.

Another aspect of timing in rope is using the pauses and acceleration. Everything that has a beginning also needs to end. It is especially prevailing in Naka style, because of the fact that you don’t extend the ropes, meaning that adding every new rope has a clear beginning, acceleration and end. The end is the moment for you to enjoy the tie and for your model to contemplate what is happening to her. Both you and the model need time to realize what is happening between you. Otherwise, things keep happening, but neither of you has the time to actually feel and enjoy them.

The end moment is not an end in the way that Westerners usually understand it. It is far from nothingness. It is rather a pause before the next part starts unfolding.

Even though each rope is a complete piece, one should always keep in mind that it is a part of something bigger. One rope is a part of a TK, a TK is a part of a tie, a tie is a part of a scene, a scene is a part of a sequence of scenes, and so on. Every single part is complete, but it is also a part of something bigger.

There is this concept of a buildup, they all add up to something bigger, each part more and more intense. The acceleration is happening not only in a single piece, but also throughout the entire scene, each rope being more intense than the previous, adding to the experience, but at the same time being a complete part on its own.

Progression

There is nothing worse than a flat rope scene. Therefore, there should be a progression in everything that you do. Every wrap that you put on the model should have more intention than the previous one and assert more and more control over her. The way to do it is not necessarily through more tension or force in the rope, but rather in you becoming more and more focused on the model. Each movement causing both of you to further immerse yourself in your bubble.

Apart from the progression of connection and intention, there is also a concept of progression throughout the scene. The tie keeps building up to something bigger and more intense. To make it even more interesting and at the same time more sustainable for your model, you should step back from time to time though.

Progression does not have to be linearly increasing. In fact, it's better if you step back sometimes, allowing your model to catch a breath. This way, the next time you strike, your model will be able to take more. Otherwise, if you keep striking hard without a break, she can easily be overwhelmed. In the end, you want her to take as much of your torture as possible. Therefore, it is better to give her some time to adjust, see where she is compensating and slowly take it away step by step.

Interaction

Kinbaku is not only about applying the rope on the body of your model but also using it to move your model and to control her. You want to talk to your model through rope, every move that you make should be intentional and have a meaning. You should also pay attention to whether your model actually understands your intention. Read her. Her body language will tell you a lot.

You should be able to control the movement of the model in every moment. Not using force, but because of her submission to you. She shouldn't change her position on her own accord. If she does, then it means that she is not yours yet.

Dominance and submission

Kinbaku is a D/s art, but a very subtle one. It is about seduction. You don’t want to force the terrible things that you have in mind onto someone. You want to seduce them into believing that this is what they want. Only then it is a real submission. In order to achieve that, you need to listen to your model and to the signals that she is sending you. If you are focused on your goal and not listening to her, she won’t submit. You will just force your will upon her, but she won’t be yours. And you want her to be yours. You want to control her experiences and create a bubble where all that she is thinking about is your next move.

Tying someone up is a way to show control. To make the other feel helpless and captured. But also to lull them into a false sense of security. You don’t want your model to keep fighting with you. You want her to feel good under your control. And to do that, you need to listen to what does and doesn’t feel good for her. Otherwise, you will only control her body, but it's her mind that you really want. And once you have it, it's up to your imagination what you want to make her feel. She is your playground and all the other kids are gone. The fun is all yours.

Where is the bottom in all that?

The workshop was amazing, but it seemed like it was all about the riggers. It made me think a lot about kinbaku and my role in it as a bottom. On the first sight, it seems like the role of the rigger is way more prominent and the model is a mere receiver. The importance of the skills of the rigger is definitely more visible and the skills itself are in a way easier defined. And they are very different from bottoming skills.

I think that the rigging skills are more tangible and standard, therefore easier to teach, in a way. I love following rope workshops and listening about tying, even though I have no intention of becoming a rigger myself. I still find hearing about the process fascinating. But I also often feel kind of strange during rope workshops as I'm very dependent on my rigger and there is no way that I can perform well if he doesn't.

I tend to be very ambitious and I am always striving to perfection. And that's why I sometimes find it difficult to be so dependent on my rigger in my development as a model. Because I feel like until he perfects his skills, the only thing that I can do is to give feedback. And to use what he is giving me at the moment.

I'm not saying that the role of the bottom is not important. But I feel that I can only start to create when my riggers give me space for it. And that comes with their skills. Because only once they have a good command of the ropes, can we start to play with our dynamic. That's when I can really express myself and grow. Before that, I need very different skills to help my rigger develop. I need to be able to analyse what is happening with my body and be critical about the experience. And I need to be able to give him constructive feedback. I used to not see it as ‘true’ bottoming skills and something that I want to develop. I used to just want to get lost in the experience. But I'm changing my mind.

And it were the partners of Dave and Wildties who made me change the way I think. When I asked Clover and RedSabbath how they feel about their role as rope bottoms and if they don't feel very passive sometimes, they gave me very interesting insights.

RedSabbath mentioned that for her the most crucial role of the bottom is to be the critic of the rigger. Really being honest about how they make you feel and what they can improve on. Conscious lab time, when you are really focused on tying is very important if you want to help him develop. In the end without you, the rigger can't improve. Without your feedback, he can only guess how he makes you feel. With your feedback, he can really grow and learn from his mistakes. You shape his awareness. Without you, there is no kinbaku.

Clover on the other hand explained how she feels very active in creating the scene as she is the one who is receiving riggers input, feeling it and communicating how it feels. When being in rope, she is developing her ‘bondage persona’, learning about her strong and weak sides and what feels good to her. In this way, they work very much together to create the best possible rope experience. There is a lot of self-discovery and learning for the bottom in that process. But that happens when the rigger overcomes the ‘technique’ obstacle and when the rope practice becomes a question of ‘what’ and not ‘how’.

Listening to all this, I realized that even though my role is very different than rigger’s, I still have many things that I can work on improving. I can work on giving feedback and being more conscious about what is happening with my body in ropes and how particular ties and behaviours of the rigger make me feel. I also realized that what I want to perfect is being beautiful and strong in ropes for my rigger. I can practice giving the best possible experience on my side and being grateful to the rigger for all the energy he puts into learning this difficult art.

At the same time, I also want to learn more about the Japanese culture, understand better where kinbaku comes from and what are its underlying principles in order to be able to better tune in this beautiful art and its aesthetics.

Finally, sometimes I just want to let go and give myself fully to the rigger. Let him play me like an instrument and take out all the beauty that is in my emotions and in my suffering. Because that is what we are ultimately striving to achieve.

On one performance that embodied the essence of kinbaku to me

Recently I've had a privilege of watching Bingo Shigonawa performing live. Coincidentally it was also my second proper rope performance that I have seen (first one being Benoit Descordes & Human Chuo right before him). I was extremely excited and I expected an amazing experience. What I did experience, exceeded my expectations by far. It was not only beautiful and intense, but it also made me realise what kinbaku is for me and what exactly draws me to it.

Intensity

When I was watching Bingo tying his model, I could see that they're in a sort of trance. His focus was all on her and her focus was all on him. To the point that she was twitching each time when he touched her. I've heard some people saying that Japanese models exaggerate sometimes and are too theatrical. From my own experience that is not the case. If I have a great connection with someone, they can put me in this intense trance-like state when everything I experience is intensified tenfold. I am a sucker for intense experiences. When I am tied, I want to be all in and I want to cross my boundaries. I want to get lost in the experience that he/she is giving me and forget about everything else that is there except for being in their ropes.

Eroticism

Bingo was tying and touching his model in a clearly erotic way. He didn't touch her vagina but he was touching other parts of her body and tying in such a way that he made her aroused. For me that was a big part of the show that made it so exciting. It was hypnotizing to watch him play with her and make her more and more excited.
I get turned on when I am tied up. A rope scene involves so many elements that I find hot that it is basically impossible for me not to get aroused. At least when done well. In its essence, Japanese bondage is an erotic activity. A special, subtle and beautiful one, but still erotic. And I love it’s sensuality. It doesn't mean that I want it to grow outside of ropes or that sex is the end goal. But I do want my scenes to involve some level of eroticism or sensuality.

Shame

I don't think Bingo exploited it in particular, but you could definitely see that his model did not feel comfortable and confident being exposed and tortured in front of all these people. She kept looking down and closing her eyes and was not engaging with the audience. And I loved that.

Apparently, for many westerners shame play is hard to grasp, but I identify with it strongly. Even though in general, I might not be a person who is ashamed of her body or her sexual needs, there is a certain mental place where I become that person. I actually love to be there and play with it. When I feel very submissive I immediately become more self-conscious and way easier to embarrass. And I love when the rigger plays with it, exposing me to the audience and taking my mind and body apart and showing all the pieces to them one by one with me having no control over it. Of course, part of me wants all those things that the rigger is doing to me, but while in the subspace I genuinely feel embarrassed about it. Maybe it's my Catholic upbringing that programmed my head to find sex and pleasure shameful. Or maybe something else. Whatever it was, I am extremely grateful for it, as it makes shibari and sex so much more intense and exciting.

Dominance and Submission

Bingo's model was clearly submissive to him and that is what made their interaction so beautiful to watch. I don't know if this dynamic existed also outside of the scene, but in the scene you could see that she belonged to him entirely.

For me there is no way of doing rope without submitting to the rigger. Or maybe there could be, but I don’t want to take that path? I want to feel like I belong to the rigger and that they can do whatever they want to me. I want to be at their disposal and to lust their touch when all they give me is a touch of the rope sliding on my body. And I want to please them by making myself beautiful and by suffering through all the complicated poses that they put me through. I want to do it for them and I want to gain their approval and be appreciated. This dynamic is for me the essence of kinbaku. Total submission and revealing of my deepest parts to the rigger.

Suffering

At some point Bingo hung the model upside down with her knees brought close to her chest by the rope and her ass exposed for blows. He took an object that looked like an intricate shoehorn and started hitting her, each time evoking a loud scream. When he finished, he turned her butt cheeks towards us and revealed bloody red and purple bruises. This was an intense moment. It made me both in awe of her and at the same time a bit disgusted with myself, enjoying it. I think that he made us all feel like perverts. She was clearly suffering and it was beautiful in a terrifying way. There is a beauty in watching a person endure a torture and persevere.

As a masochist, I enjoy pain. But it is not really the pleasure of pain that I'm after in rope. I want to be challenged and put on the verge of breaking. I want to be tortured while helpless and endure it for the rigger and for myself. I want to be put in more and more challenging positions and I want to be left in them until I reach the point where I can't take it anymore. I want to amaze my rigger and make him/her proud. I want to feel strong and invincible afterwards. I want to be broken and then repaired.

Beauty

There are so many aesthetically appealing elements in the Japanese rope bondage that I don't even know where to start. The colorful intricate kimono slowly revealing more and more of the naked body, the impossibly unnatural poses that the body is forced into by rope, the meticulous precision of the rigger applying rope on model's body and playing her emotions like an instrument, the visual beauty of the body canvas covered in white cloth, beige rope and red wax. All that was in Bingo's performance.

At some point towards the end of the performance, he hung the model by the ankle, revealed her inner thighs and poured streams of red wax over one of them, making it drop on her hand. His moves were deliberate and composed, while the model was screaming and squirming under his touch. You could see a range of emotions passing through her. It was such a beautiful view, it was like a fleeting piece of art unfolding right in front of your eyes. It made me think that in this way rope definitely is an art. Not only in visual terms, but also in terms of the emotions that it evokes in the audience. The aesthetic beauty without the emotions would be empty.

The show of Bingo was a quintessence of what draws me to the Japanese rope bondage. The intensity, eroticism, shame, dominance and submission, suffering and beauty combined together make for a mixture that is hypnotizing and irresistible. And I just can't help but want more of it.

On tango and rope

I am in an early stage of rope addiction. As a seasoned and experienced tango addict I can recognize the signs. Obsessive looking for all kinds of information on the topic. Reading and watching videos for hours. Practicing extensively, even if it involves travelling to different cities. And at the same time, feeling like there is never enough and you will never become as good as your role models.  

It was during my regular browsing through fetlife resources on rope bondage, when I stumbled upon this commentary by Gorgone to an article from Kinkyphilia 'About being a rope bunny'. Both of them stirred up a lot, and also made me realize how many similarities there are between the Argentine tango and the Japanese rope bondage. I am a beginner in the world of rope bondage but have years of experience as a tango follower. Therefore, I felt like sharing some of my insights that I think apply to both. Most of the things here are written from a 'bottoming' perspective and are my own subjective opinions and observations and I don't claim them to be the ultimate truths. 

So let’s start with the obvious.

There is a leader and a follower

First similarity that comes to my mind is quite straightforward. Both in tango and in rope bondage there is a leader who decides what is going to happen, and a follower who either submits and follows the lead or breaks the 'flow'. 

Even though it might seem that the role of a follower is very passive, it actually should not be. A passive follower, even following the lead most dutifully, is not able to create a beautiful dance, because he or she is not emotionally involved in it. As my tango teachers have taught me, the leader frames the dance, but the follower fills it up with meaning and emotion. 

I think that it is very true in tango and the same holds for rope. The rigger ties you up and puts your body in certain positions, but it is you who allow yourself to feel the emotions that the rigger is invoking in you and it is you who connects in them with your rigger.

They involve a deep intimate connection with another person

Both in tango and in rope bondage you are in a close physical and emotional contact with your partner. That involves being open and vulnerable to the other person. It also involves a willingness to connect coming from both sides. Even with the greatest and the most experienced leader, if you don't like him as a person, you will not dance beautifully. It holds even more for rope as you allow your 'leader' to have way more physical and mental control over you.  

This is something that I have not seen much when it comes to bottoming advice, but I find it very important. When you consider tying with someone, do not only look at the level of their skills, but also if you connect with them as a person. I think that many times you can have way better experience with a person who is maybe less skilled, but who you have a better connection with. Maybe he or she will not make you float in the air in the most fancy way, but you will be able to get lost in the connection that is between you two and you might experience intense and deep emotions that you would not experience with a person that you are not willing to be emotionally close to.

They require skill and are physically challenging 

Tango and rope are complex creative activities that require time, effort and dedication to master. Therefore, they attract a kind of people who are driven and passionate. To me this is one of the things that makes them so appealing. 

On the other hand, it might also create a social environment, where your rope or tango skills are a measure of your social value as a person. This can be difficult and painful sometimes, especially if you are a beginner trying to make your way in a new community. It is good to remember about it as a more experienced person in order to keep the community open and friendly. But also as a beginner remember to remind yourself that your skills are not what defines you as a person.  

Another thing related to this topic is that you can sometimes get lost in perfecting your technique and forget about the feelings that are actually at the core of the activity. I haven't experienced it with rope yet, but in tango I had a period when I was so focused on my body, the movements that I make and fixing my mistakes that I would forget about the connection and being 'in the dance'. Sometimes you have to make an effort to get out of your head and stop thinking about what you want to improve in order to just be in the moment and enjoy what is happening. 

On the other hand, this ability to get lost in the moment and feel together with your partner increases greatly with your skill, so you have to find a sweet spot. What works for me is to differentiate between the time for practice when you try more difficult things, observe and correct yourself and your body and the time for enjoyment, when you do less challenging things, you get lost in the connection with your partner and stop thinking about the technique. Thanks to that, I am able to enjoy where I am now and appreciate what I love about the activity, instead of constantly focusing on what I want to improve. I guess that in rope, the same as in tango, the journey never ends, so it is important to appreciate where you are now.   

They are coming from a certain culture, but are currently practiced and taught all around the world

This, in my opinion, is one of the reasons why the articles mentioned earlier differ so much in their views. Both tango and rope bondage are a part of a cultural heritage of a certain nation but they grew beyond that. This causes clashes between traditionalists and people who grew up in this culture and people 'from the outside' who learned the technique out of their interest, but are not as attached to the tradition. The views that both of the groups have on certain aspects of the activity can differ dramatically. To be honest, I do not take either of the sides, as I think that they both bring value.  

I have danced with people from many countries and I must say that with no other leader have I experienced a level of connection as deep as with Argentine dancers. They just feel natural and truly in their element when they dance. Therefore, when it comes to feelings and connection I try to listen to the people who come from the country of origin of the art that I want to master, even if I don't agree with everything they say. They usually have very valuable insights and let me go back to the roots and re-think the ideas that I've built up so far. 

That was the reason why the article from Kinkyphilia about rope bottoming was so inspiring to me. Even though they might have strong and dismissive views on some aspects, I look beyond that and let them remind me what is at the core of rope bondage. That I don't want my rope experience to be predictable. That I want to get lost in it. I want to feel at the mercy of my rigger and to overcome my own boundaries. For me this is exactly what makes for a deep rope scene.  

On the other hand, I think that people who did not grew up in the culture of origin bring a fresh look and ideas to the table. They are able to re-think and improve many concepts that are too inherent to the art for the people who grew up with it, to even spot their existence. From my tango experience, the new wave of teachers (sometimes also from the country of origin) often had a more analytical look at the technique and sometimes also taught people in a more effective way. Instead of giving you just a few tips and leaving you to figure out on your own how to achieve something through years of practice, they would show you in steps how to do it. They also shared their secrets more easily. 

Another thing is that the 'new wave' did not share the traditional gender stereotypes that the art was rooted in, but rather thought beyond that for ways to empower both roles and learn about their value. Therefore, I embrace fully the empowerment of rope bottoms that Gorgone is advocating for and I think that it’s great that there is so much more focus now on safety and skill of the bottoms.  

Summing up, there is a surprising amount of similarities between the Argentine tango and the Japanese rope bondage, not only in the techniques themselves but also in the way that the communities around them are formed and in the way that both of these art forms develop. I only named a few of the common things here. I also feel that practicing both of them at the same time enriches my experience and lets me look at each a bit differently. Finally, as a practitioner of an art coming from a certain culture I try to honor it and learn as much as possible from the people who grew up with it as it lets me to connect to the core of that practice. At the same time, I also try to think for myself and see where the value is in the tradition and where it is too rigid and limiting and I should move beyond it.