Posts tagged rope bottoming
V is for "Ouch!" Rope Journaling 5-3

It’s been a while since I've played with anyone new. It's also been an equally long time since I've gotten a chance to seriously bottom. So I did a big scary thing and posted an ad in the play dates thread for Kinkfest asking for what I wanted.

Admitting to needing a chance to play and not be in control was terrifying. It didn’t help that most of the people who responded were older men.  And looking at their messages I realized I was zero percent interested in them. Old men used to be my jam! Guess being treated well by the youngin’ Mr Right changed my mind. Turns out feminist, socially aware folks of my generation are a lot more rewarding.

So that left me with just one fella in my age range that wrote a great “this is me and this is the trouble we could get into” message. Problem was he didn't have a picture. Never a good sign. But everything he said was hot and interesting so I took a chance and told him how to find me in the dungeon the first night.

It was half way into the evening already and this mystery man hadn't said hello, all my regular play partner friends were busy getting into trouble already. So I wondered if I should call it a night and go home to play with the sure thing that was waiting for me in bed. Just as I was turning to walk towards my bag and coat the universe tapped me on the shoulder.

I turned around to a younger hyperactive version of Robert Downey Jr. “Hi I'm V. I hope you're Emily because I don't usually talk to strangers.” I instantly knew I would play with V if he was up for it because damn I have a weak spot (and a wet spot in my pants) for RDJ. See, the first dirty old man I slept with on the regular who became my regular fuck buddy all through college looked like RDJ and I'd never quite gotten over him. Guess I wasn't as over old men as I thought.

So after declaring our hypothetical interest in a scene, V and I did a dance of flirtation heavy on sarcasm and geeky puns, you know, just the way I like. Kinkfest is the one time of year I will do pick up play (doing a scene with a near stranger with very little negotiation) because it's a huge event. I trust people to not be stupid enough to try to cross limits in a room of hundreds of witnesses and if something goes wrong there's hundreds of people to help. So I was ready to jump in. V however needed more foreplay.

We sat and chatted about being Midwesterners trying to figure out the strange social graces of the west coast and the differences between the kink scenes in the various places we've lived. (No matter where one goes, Portland has the reputation of being the consent violation capital of the US...so sad and yet so well warranted. There's a reason I don't often play with new partners.) And since we were stationary our friends kept finding us to say hello. And each time we got interrupted it took V a minute to remember we were thinking about playing. So by 11 I was ready to leave him and go try to play with a friend since it seemed like V was never going to happen. And again as soon as I decided I was done waiting for V, he decided he was ready.

Finally! What's a girl gotta go to get tied up around Portland these days?

We settled for a square of super sexy wrestling mats on the super safe concrete floor. (The ambiance of the dungeon this year left a bit to be desired.) He spread out his ropes, I took off only my dress because he didn't want the girl cooties of naked flesh near his body (hey I’d waited this long for the thing to happen I wasn’t going to bail now and I didn’t need my bits touched anyway.) And we began our dance of give and take.

He circled rope around my chest, let the rope go slack and then pulled it tight suddenly to knock me off balance and into him. He pushed me away and finished the rope harness in a similar fashion, always keeping me on edge. We were standing, neither of my arms were bound and he kept looking at me expectantly. We had negotiated and talked about possibilities for over an hour I had kinda forgotten what he had decided on us doing at this point. Did he want me to fight him and be switchy? We'd flirted with rope wrestling as a possibility, was he waiting for me to put a rope on him?

Just as I was about to ask he approached me putting the bone of his knees into the backs of my mine to sweep me to the floor where he added more rope. That answered that question.

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As he added more ropes to the tangle of seemingly nonsensical lines on my body he would periodically tug on them or poke me with an elbow or knee to elicit a grunt. “Oh does that hurt? Should I stop? Anything else you have to say for yourself?”

It was about then I realized this is probably what it's like to get topped by me. I sighed at the universe's sense of humor and resigned myself to being tormented by the male alternative reality version of me.  Complete with a rope mess, awkwardly applied pain and sarcastic sadistic comments. I made a mental note to learn some new topping methodology. Who was I kidding...I was having a blast even if his techniques were oddly familiar.  After all I liked all the things I do to people, that's why I do them. I just so seldom get them done to me I forgot what such a thing was like.

It was delightful to lay back and “enjoy” being tormented. V was terrible! In the best possible way of course. I was groaning and threatening to bite him and yelling everything except the “fuck you” he so desired. Not even when he played with my feet did I give in and say every Top’s favorite ego stroking phrase.

We even managed a rope kerfuffle with grace. Instead of panicking when a limb was totally unresponsive V untied it was quickly as possible (no easy task when I was covered with his entire bag of rope) and talked me through sensation returning. We laughed and continued his plan to hurt me until I was loopy. It worked, by the time all the rope was off me I was weaving around while trying to sit up while also unable to figure out my sweater. He coiled his rope while looking at me worried. “Don't worry I promise not to fall over and break my head. It's just been a reeallly long time since I've gotten to bottom to a meanie. This is all good, promise.”

“I figured but thanks for letting me know.  And don’t worry I had fun too, I just have resting overly concerned face.”

After I'd cobbled together a bit of brain power we hugged farewell and I took the train home to cuddle a sleepy Mr Right who was snuggled up in bed waiting for me, sleeping like a puppy.  Curling up around my love, I was well reminded of everything I like and don’t about playing with new people. I guess I should do it more often!

Adventures in Housesitting: Part 1--Rope Journaling 9-27

Scene: Bed in an unfamiliar house I’m watching for a couple weeks.

This photo has nothing to do with the story at hand.  I just also wanted to mention Mr Right is also the sort of ridiculous creature who bought rainbow rope and isn't it fucking glorious?

This photo has nothing to do with the story at hand.  I just also wanted to mention Mr Right is also the sort of ridiculous creature who bought rainbow rope and isn't it fucking glorious?

Mr Right has just finished tying me spread eagle to the bed using a brand new knot I taught him.  Annoyingly he learned on the first try with no effort. (I suspect after a couple more lessons he'll be better at rope than me. This is irritating and erotic all at once) This knot tying and perfecting has taken around 20 minutes. He grins as he moves to begin the rest of his plan.

Me feels particularly vulnerable spread out across the bed. Legs wide and waiting. Feeling like prey as Mr Right looks on.

A very loud ringing fills the house. It’s the doorbell chiming.  At least I think it's the doorbell. Mr Right and I look at each other startled, hearts racing.

Me: “Should you untie me?”

Mr Right looking like a dear deer in the headlights: “I don't know.”

Me: “Who would it possibly be? I bet it's just a solicitor and they'll go away when we don't answer.”

Mr Right looking around: “I'm looking for a blunt object.”

Me: “What?!”

Mr Right: “For bludgeoning. Though I suppose a shady character wouldn’t ring first.”

Me:  “That’s where your head goes first? Bludgeoning?”

The doorbell rings out loudly again making us both jump.  Mr Right and I look at each other wide eyed. He stands at attention at bedroom door.  I am still very much and very securely tied to the bed and starting to feel vulnerable in a not fun way.

Me: “Well fuck. Maybe you should go answer it. If it's homeowner’s friend tell them I'm in the shower.”

Mr Right leaves room and comes back instantly: “Here, I'll loosen you a bit first.”

He unties one of my wrists and heads for the door. I frantically finish untying my other limbs and try to find clothes as I hear the front door open.  Mr Right steps outside.

Disembodied voice I only catch in bits and pieces: “Are you S? ...when will they be back? ...joke about female homeowner and stalking her on her bike so he can pass something off to her...40 people…”

I stand on the stairway unsettled as Mr Right closes the door and brandishes a quart of apparently handmade cider. We both look equally confused.

Mr Right: “Want some cider that may or may not be poisoned and/or laced with LSD?”

Me: “What?”

Mr Right: “Apparently their neighbor had a cider making party and needed to hand deliver this tonight. He was not taking the hint.”

Mr Right is flushed, hair disheveled, pants pretty obviously just barely put on. Most people would understand this as a coitus interruptus situation.  The neighbor was not that observant.

Me: “Obviously not what with the ringing the doorbell twice at 8:30 on a Sunday when any reasonable person is having sex.”

We kiss, trying to regain the moment.

Mr Right: “Well that was a mood killer. Glad you didn't see him, you may have never wanted to have sex ever again.”

Me:”Thanks for taking one for the team while I was a little tied up.” I grab Mr Right and drag him towards the bedroom again. I won't allow some weirdo with questionable apple juice ruin our fun. “This is just an excuse for you to grab more rope and practice your single column ties.”

Mr Right grimaces but gamely follows me into bed. We go back to what we had started. Mr right ties me, more secure than before. I look at him impressed and a little intimidated because this time he has a blindfold which he puts on me.

Me: “Yeap I definitely feel even more vulnerable what with the blindfold and knowing that the shady doorbell can ring at any time.”

Mr Right: “Oh good, that’s the plan.”

He goes for something on the bedside table. Clothes pins, wartenburg wheel, vibrator. I don't remember what came first just that the interruption was only further fuel for the erotic energy we'd started yesterday but were unable to finish. We were highly pent up by this point.

Dear reader, Mr Right teased and tormented me with surprising intensity. Then he fucked me silly with an unexpected vigor. Then we fucked me silIyer with vibrators until I came, until I thought I couldn't anymore. Then I sat up to kiss him. He pulled my hair to pull me in closer and thus caused a new cascade of orgasms start.

Me just barely able to speak while looking him in the eyes: “No fair making me start coming again.”

Mr Right: “Oh darn it's almost as if I've figured out what you like.”

When I finally wrestle my vagina away from his sneaky fingers and have a chance to relax long enough to make my legs work again it's his turn. I tie his arms to the bed. No doorbells ring. I tease and please him to a delicious fruition. We canoodle in a sweaty happy pile.

Mr Right: “Take that cider guy!”

Me: “I'd say.”

Mr Right: “If only he had any idea what he interrupted.”

We look around at the rope and sex toys and clothes everywhere and giggle.