The Eroticization of Suffering, Vol 2

From forehead on the mat to tip toe balancing, I was transfixed by the sight of her beautiful suffering.

The tie we learned is called the Thigh Crusher, which sounds like a WWE Smackdown move, but it’s essentially a rope skirt formed from the tension of binding the thighs together. The tighter you wrap, the greater the suffering.

“We’re gonna be putting pressure on the quads with this one,” Shayne says.

The Demo

Their first tie is technical. We watch him wrap the rope around her, explaining how/where/why. Her entire body sways as he pulls and tightens. She describes how it feels for her, why she likes it, and ways to increase or decrease certain sensations.

Quickly, he unties her, goes back to the beginning, and invites us to stand and join them for a step by step tie along.

“Start with a larks head around the waist. You can adjust this higher or lower depending on what the Bottom prefers…”

There are individuals like myself doing self ties, people tying in pairs—some are lovers, some are friends, and some are strangers who just met that evening. There are also folks who come to watch—they stay on the sofas and chairs littered about the room.

“Then you’re gonna lock it off with a half hitch to secure the structure…”

The ones who are tying are doing so shoeless on yoga mats that we sanitize before and after using. I always keep my clothes on, but there are people who like to get partly or mostly undressed depending on their penchant for rope over clothes vs. rope over skin.

“We’re gonna use tension and reverse tension on the thighs, starting from the center…”

“Wrap and hook like this..”

“Remember to focus on where you want that center line to go. Maintain the tension as you carry your rope back the way it came…”

“Continue just like that down the body, keeping in mind the path of the center line…”

Rope is like learning a new language, so I appreciate their patience with us. They ensure everyone has each step done correctly before advancing to the next one. No one cares how long it takes as we’re all lost in our own little worlds, trading our burdens for silence in rope.

Here, you can struggle openly and there is absolutely no shame. While others are being coached, I find myself moving my hands over the bound skin of my body. It’s more sensitive to be touched where you’re tied… It’s a beautiful moment when we all complete the tie and look around at each other’s finished products.

After the oohs and awes and complimenting of one another’s work came their third and final demo—incorporating the tie into play.

The Scene

You could feel the anticipation radiating from her and the power radiating from him. He started by forcefully grabbing and pulling her closer to him—face to face, lips gently grazing each other—then he swiftly turns her around, pulls her arms behind her and begins binding. A quick cuff and she’s immediately more vulnerable.

They don’t look at us now, they don’t speak to us, it’s as if we’re not there and it’s them alone. I’m hyper fixated on her breathing, the way he looks at her and smirks, the energy of their heat.

He stands behind her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and stooping slightly to angle his knees behind hers and force her body weight onto him. It’s a subtle exchange of power. She moans as he whispers something in her ear and eases her down onto her knees completely. It’s in this position that he quickly adds a chest harness around her ample breasts before urging her upper body forward until she’s facedown on the mat, child’s pose style, looking utterly helpless.

He adds an up line to the chest harness and begins pulling on it, then, like a marionette doll, we watch her rise from broken pose to fully on her toes. It’s in this standing position that he tops off her ties with a mean thigh crusher.

He’s not gentle with her. By the leading rope, he pulls her close to him and pushes her away. She is fully secured to the suspension rig, a line from her chest harness and a line from the thigh crusher both attached in the back. She’s not completely off the ground, but she’s strung up in a way that she’s leaning forward and balancing most of her weight on her tippy toes.

She looks disoriented like she forgot where she is.

As her breathing becomes more rapid, the room falls quiet and every sigh, every moan, every disheveled stomp of her foot is heard. He stays out of her way, but he manages to push her in one direction or another before moving. She reaches for him fruitlessly. His touches are quick and stealthy.

He put her in some predicaments—like connecting the rope from her tortured thigh to her big toe with such precise tension that she had to lean further forward in a way that put more pressure on her thighs. If she wanted to ease the thigh pressure, it would increase the intensity of the tension on her toe. If she wanted to relieve the toe tension, it would increase the tension on her quads. Sweet, sweet torture.

At the end of the scene, he lowers her slowly onto the mat and we watch her come down from the high of being tied and tortured—she was breathing really hard and giggling a bunch—it was the cutest thing. He rubs her back, strokes her hair, alternating between gentle touches and untying. As she gradually fell back into her body, he provided aftercare by feeding her Gatorade and snacks and caressing the curves of her rope kissed skin.


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The Eroticization of Suffering

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