I Put On Some Make-up, Turn Up The Tape Deck

(NOTE: Based on time elapsed since the posting of this entry, the BS-o-meter calculates this is 16.884% likely to be something that Ferrett now regrets.)

So it’s a Saturday night and I’m sitting in my living room, tying up my wife’s feet. Well, her legs, really; I’ve been trying to master limb locks and the two-column ties after watching the videos at TwistedMonk.com and the diagrams in the Complete Shibari book. And I’ve been advised that I should just practice at will instead of trying to invariably link the complex intricacies of “ropework” with “hot sex,” since the frustration of “SEX NAO?” will magnify the frustrations of knot-learning.
So I’m on my second drink of the night, watching DS9 with Gini as she lays across the couch and periodically I go, “Okay, try to get out.”
She does. Too often. Not entirely my fault. This Home Depot nylon’s really slippery rope.
I text pictures to a few friends showing them my odd Saturday night, and Jenphalian – a true rope-bunny – wonders what the hell kind of two-column tie I’m trying. She’s bored, I’m happy to learn, so I install Skype and we webcam it up. Gini stands as Jen teaches me her foolproof method of securing limbs – a lot quicker and bunnyproof than the two methods I know – and then I’m holding the Complete Shibari book up to the screen as she squints and tries to make more sense of the book than I have.
Suddenly, my life implodes a little as I realize the oddness of it all. Here I am, chatting with a beloved sex partner of mine on the Internet webcam as we’re discussing better ways to tie up my wife, and this isn’t sexual, we’re genuinely working hard to untangle this problem, and I reflect on all the ways kink and poly and friendship and the Internet have been knotted up in a way that I couldn’t possibly explain to others but makes such a raw and intimate sense to me.
And the strangest things seem suddenly routine.

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