“I’m having one of those is-this-really-my-life? kinda moments.” He said grinning like a man with a belly full of potatoes, cheese, and bacon who had just been forcibly carried across the room in order to be snuggled by two women. One his lover and the other the weirdo who ties him up occasionally. Obviously I’m the latter of the two as well as the one who had insisted on tot waffles and rope practice, because what the hell else are you going to do on a Sunday afternoon in fall?
I have that same moment a couple times a day (the is-this-is-my-life? moment not the snuggled by multiple women thing, though if some ladies want to come over and make an Emily sandwich I’ll provide the condiments). I had it while, Victor aka the Boychick, was cooking. Meanwhile famous writer and owner of a very comforting stuffed flounder, Mo (go pre-order her book!) and I exchanged essays we had just written as we enjoyed the frantic culinary dance taking play before us.
Through some strange synchronicity she was writing her side of our shared abused-by-a-furry-narcissist story to present to fawning audiences at her readings this week. And I was writing my side of the very same story to submit to an online magazine. So we swapped them as the smell of grease and tots filled the air.
It never fails to amuse and bemuse me how we met. That against all mutton chopped odds we’re pals. And here we are sharing the company of the same man (lucky Boychick) this time with absolutely no drama, the way it should be. Yeap this is my life. It’s pretty rad.
Later, the Russian national anthem blaring from the tinny speakers of a laptap, I tie Victor face down/ass up for a position I’m calling The Advanced Leap Frog. Mo looks on grinning, puppet in hand; I have that moment again…is this really happening?
Just for good measure I test the resiliency of this tie by play humping Victor from many angles, because I just never know if while I’m teaching my Bondage for Sex class someone is going to come out with the question “Yes but can I fuck my partner in the ear in this position?” I want to be prepared for every outcome. This is the level of research I put into my ties, people!
So after test humping all the regular orifices (don’t be dirty people I was fully clothed, he had boxers on and there were puppets watching so stop making this something it isn’t) I moved onto his exposed ear. I gave it a few hip thrusts all the while making the calls of a mating male turtle in order to be thorough.
Thus satisfied with the sustainability of the tie, I turned him over to the eager test audience who was interested in erectile plasticity of pupaphobes partaking in BDSM activities. First a stuffed shark who is a well known submissive itself was applied to the genital region of the test subject. Giggling and groans were recorded.
Next a navy blue Triceratops hand puppet was brought in to declare many times, “Don’t get a boner. Do you have a boner? There are two ladies, Victor’s gonna get a boner.”
No boner was recorded. I hypothesize it was due to the abnormal shading of the dinosaur because the puppet voice was spot on. Mo, I am here to tell you is not only a world class writer, the lady also has the best creepy puppet voice this side of the Mississippi. It nearly brought tears to my eyes.
As the Triceratops continued to attempt to detect any boner related activities (“Where’s the boner Victor?”) I untied the lad. The swell of the indecipherable Russian choir that was the soundtrack to this moment was the perfect tempo for the swoops of rope this way and that and the tugging at the body that are always a part of a rope scene. Fancy pants rope performers have it all wrong, electronica is passé, Russian choral music is perfect for tying to. I’ve been converted.
As I worked I made sure to alternate between asking him questions about the tension of the rope and what worked for him in that position while using my worst Eastern European old lady accent and occasionally punctuating the moment with turtle hump noises. All the while Mo and the puppet continued their thorough interrogation.
I’m really baffled as to why this evening didn’t transition into being the hottest sweaty threesome (well fivesome, the puppet and the subby shark were still there) ever. All the elements of a great Hump video were there. Just really baffling.
Sorry Victor, I’ll try harder to be a better rope top next time. You looked just horrified and saddened to be mostly naked in your lady lover’s bed reading the Wikipedia article on the history of the upper peninsula of Michigan on Mo’s laptop as I left. I know you probably just held each other and recovered the rest of the evening while I rode the bus home to watch James Deen videos and giggle under my covers. It’s really unfair that I got to have all the fun.