OK if you’re like me you have a nice collection of books and instructional materials, a few favorite spots to watch videos, favorite well known riggers and if you are lucky your own assortment of rope sluts to play with all the wicked things you own. Well that and 5 bucks at a fancy shop will get you a coffee or a polite introduction at the local munch right?
By my own admission I’m not a bondage purist while I dig traditional Shibari it’s not my passion. I’m more of a Wild West cowboy type meaning use the rope and knots you like or need in any given situation. After all by traditional standards I suck as a top since Being called sir or master doesn’t do it for me. Made up rules seem well made up and I can’t get the whole Capital letter small letter thing down as to not offend subs and don’t even try to get me to follow the whole Gorean protocol thing. But hey what ever gets your rocks off. I’m not judging I’m just saying a scene is a scene and the only thing in my world 24/7 is taxes, breathing , and work.
On a recent fishing expedition to the great white north in stead of wiggly little bondage bunny I was challenged to tie a 22 foot boat to a dock. Damn and I left home with out my favorite combat boots and leather pants not to mention hemp rope and EMT scissors. For this little adventure I told the boat the safe word was Captain Ahab. And true to form she felt no need to utter it!
Still trying a boat was a seemingly easy task except there were no cleats to tie off onto only rope, a few spots to tie off to on the boat and a few posts along the doc. As my guide and captain informed me that is the boat broke loose it would be my fault I hopped ashore before he had it out of gear I’d rigged knots on both side that would only draw tighter as the boat moved and coiled up the remaining amount of line neatly on the dock.
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By the time he shut down the engine and got off the vessel I was done he looked at the ties, pulled on them expecting to give the city boy a rash of shit for his rope skills. A not bad followed.
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The next day one big ass northern pike broke through the fishing net. It was handed to me along with some nylon string and the ask was “ try to fix the holes so we have a net for the rest of the day” I think after the fact the intention was for me to take the string gather the big hole in the bottom and tie it together. Instead in 10 minutes I had mended each of the holes in the net back to match the original weave pattern. My own father looked at me like I was a freak…which in part was true since as a kid I couldn’t tie a string to a kite and get it to stay. The other fishermen were impressed.
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So during the week I tied off to stumps and telephone poles that needed pulled out by trucks and heavy machines. Wrapped logs that would get drug around by a quad runner off the trail. Each and every tied came with the greatest of ease. So I’m a big guy no one cared how much I could lift, how quick I could cut down a tree with an ax or the fact I was pushing 5 foot high and 8 foot long concrete drainage pipe up and down hills by myself. Nah good old mike’s a big guy he’s always been as strong as an OX that impressed no one but my rope skills translated from the bedroom and dungeon to the woods with relative ease is what garnered attention.
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Upon my return back to civilization the Chesty Blonde asked I had learned anything. To which proudly proclaimed. Yeah I may have been a Boy Scout as a kid but everything I needed to do with rope on a boat and in the woods I learned from tying up women. She of course just shook her head as to not encourage me.