On the beauty of rope as a gateway kink

 My first essay is on rope – both my experience of being tied up and rope as an ever-shapeshifting erotic practice. But firstly, thank you once again for subscribing and supporting this project. Hope you find it equally interesting and hot <3  

My rope partner likes to tie me in front of the mirror. I understand why. Standing behind me, he can see jute wraps on my skin, my nakedness, and all the subtle facial expressions as my body softens in his arms. He probably likes to give me the feeling of being exposed. I keep my eyes closed most of the time. Sometimes I open them briefly, and, like with many kinks, I am a little surprised that this is still us – that we’re going through this strange experience in the same bodies we use for our daily lives. I see a glimpse of what being tied up gives me – rope is where I get to truly meet my body, where I can access parts of myself that I have no way of knowing otherwise.

I like being tied up standing. I like it when it starts with a chest harness or a TK. It makes me suddenly aware of where my body is in this physical space, in relation to the walls. I have to keep my balance – but let go of control. Limbs become light, the response to restriction malleable and elastic. I let someone else move my arm or shoulder, I give it just enough resistance. I don’t think – but my body stays aware, has its own way to communicate desire, excitement, or calm.

The rope becomes a closed circuit of pleasure: every tiny little movement I make echoes back through the tensions – sometimes tight, sometimes painful, sometimes arousingly uncomfortable. It stays in the wraps on my chest, arms and hips but expands all over my body with every breath, like a glow. In my cunt, I can feel slight pangs of shame, that very light bitterness that comes when hopelessness becomes a turn on. I catch it in my eyes in the mirror – and close them again.

I met my rope partner on a dating app. He tied me for the first time the same night we met. This part of the story unsettles a lot of people, but formerly closeted kinksters would probably know the feeling – the need to experience something which becomes greater than any fear, or any sensible instincts.

A lot of people have a gateway kink – something they tried which has sent them on a major research trip through fetishes and sexual identities – and mine is rope. It’s been part of my sexuality for as long I can remember. My earliest erotic fantasies involved rope – a strange irrational excitement that you don’t really understand as sexual. I remember finding something eerily pleasing and a little embarrassing about scenes in cartoons in which the character is tied to railway tracks. In my late teens, this rudimentary excitement translated into watching copious amounts of Hogtied or Device Bondage porn (if you know you know). I have considered paying a professional rigger to tie me up – but then just gradually got used to the idea that it might always remain a fantasy. You can imagine what kind of electricity ran through my skin that night, after dinner and two glasses of wine, when it finally happened.

Rope is probably my deepest and most personal kink – but strangely also the easiest one to talk about because of the growing presence of shibari in pop culture. Rope as a sexual or erotic practice is hybrid, fluid, open to interpretation, and exists in a variety of contexts. A truly contemporary kink, it has traveled through histories and borders – and continues shapeshifting, never set to arrive at its final form.

Terms shibari or kinbaku refer to the Japanese art of rope bondage. I will not go too deep into history – but here’s an excellent read by writer and sex educator Midori on why the practice has more to do with sex work rather than ancient noble Japanese warriors of the Western imagination. Shibari also exists in close connection to pop culture: the 1974 erotic film Flower and Snake is considered to be the commercial hit that has hugely increased its popularity. The subsequent erotic film releases and porn magazines have also influenced the development and aesthetic of the practice up to this day.

In the last few decades, Shibari has evolved in the West while blending into the broader (especially US-based) BDSM culture. It has become a part of both BDSM play and communities – rope studios and courses becoming places for local kinksters to meet and connect. Rope might be a gateway kink for many people partly because of these safe spaces (sending endless appreciation to Anatomie Studio in London where I learned my first ties), but also because it’s inclusive of many sexualities, and sometimes not even straightforwardly linked to sex or BDSM.

I love looking at different representations of rope online: calm, educational and perfectly poised at Shibari Study; softly lit and often elaborately costumed self-tie-selfies by Kiss Me Deadly Doll; tension-fuelled video sessions of Pro Dom Sir Malice Christian; dramatic suspensions by Tamandua or predicaments by Captain Daddy Sir. It makes me think that rope could be anything and everything, and there is always something new to learn.

For me personally, rope is closely linked to BDSM. I get turned on by prolonged discomfort, I enjoy slowly growing dull pain, and I get a lot of pleasure from not having control. Rope was my introduction to power exchange, which has also helped me realise that I am a switch. During my early scenes as a bottom, the little voice in my head kept going, “I want to do this to other people”. When I eventually got to dom, rope was something I could hold on to for reassurance – with rope skills, a scene always had enough direction and focus.

But that first time being tied has stayed with me as something more significant than merely a sexual experience. The mental space where I found myself was luminous, quietly pleasurable. It was maybe far away. It was maybe inside my skin. Time stopped existing. I knew where the rope on my body was: around my wrists, under my breasts and around my ribcage, crossing my collarbones. With every breath, the sensation was everywhere, flowing from where the rope touched my skin to every little bit of my body. In my daily life, I suffer from anxiety and a racing overactive mind – but there and then it went completely quiet.

Over time, I got to love rope for what it is – the texture, the sound, the smell, the sensation. But essentially I love that like any kink, rope experience is always authentic – nobody else can feel it like you do.

Polaroid by Anya Gorkova; detail of a butterfly harness tied by my rope partner and diamond harness self-tie by me.