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Shibari

No one even noticed it. It’s like everyone plays so much dress up they don’t notice when someone’s really dressed up. I think there’s so much cosmetic BDSM in pop culture that the real thing looks like jewelry to the YouTube audience.

My fetish master chose the dark purple extra soft 1″ x 15′ Japanese style rope. He unwound, inspected, smoothed the rope. He has a hypnotic way of moving and speaking when focused on the session, especially at the beginning. His attention gets my attention.

I bought that rope, and a couple of other colors & sizes of rope, online, a couple of weeks before. I’ve been looking forward and wondering…

He’s measuring the rope and folding it in quarters, maybe. He makes a central loop with a good looking knot and puts it over my head. The purple halter rests comfortably over the collar that’s already there, the collar that’s always there during our sessions.

From there, in a sensual, fairly intimate, even ritualistic way, my fetish master continues a series of calm, symmetrical wrapping and knotting gestures, asking about my comfort along the way, turning me into a picture I’ve seen, making me something I’m not sure I’ve been before… I’ll find out.

These lines are human lines, flattering maybe, remarkably comfortable. No severe restriction of motion. A presence. A presence around my ribs. A presence down my belly, between my legs, up around to the small of my back, and beyond. It’s an artwork. It’s a bondage. It’s a poem. It’s gentle and strong and binding and liberating and fun and sexy.

I wore it for 2 1/2 days, slept in it, dressed over it, showered, lived in it, mostly very comfortably.

I wore it into the wide world where most people did not seem to notice or comprehend my very visible (around my neck, around my shoulder blades, under a tank top) shabari. When I pointed it out to a few people, some thought it ‘decorative’. Some, once informed, laughed nervously and chose ‘flight’ in their panic. Some were more interested than they were comfortable with. Some, even a paid lap dancer who uncovered it, was surprised and showed a kind of fearful excitement fueled by partial-understanding.

I’ve had similar mixed feelings of fear and attraction. But, because I trust my fetish master, and myself, bondage is almost never scary in a bad way. It is mysterious and engaging.

Even for experts, Shabari, maybe all bondage, maybe all fetishes, maybe all good sex, is mysterious, beautiful, ancient, immediate, surprising, sensual, limiting, poetic, scary, funny, experimental, exotic, ecstatic. I hope so!

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