Flying: Remembering my first Shibari Suspension

My first Shibari Suspension Session had never been intended, in fact I had no intention of it happening at all. As innocent as a long weekend Privately run Kink Party could possibly be, Shibari had not, in my wildest dreams, an expectation of mine for this night.

Shibari Suspension

I had arrived on time, which in the Kink world, meant incredulously early.  I hurriedly messaged my contact and swallowed a whole lot of anxiety when I learnt he would not be arriving or another four hours. So I did the only polite thing to do, I offered to help set it up.

“Are you lost?”

I locked eyes with one of the hosts, dressed all in black, adorned with a kilt and forgot how to speak. Embarrassed. Sure, I’ve just walked into his home, holding his food and cutlery-but yeah, sure; let’s go with the lost.

We were introduced and he showed me around and helped me get settled with several groups of people as more and more kinksters arrived.

The Etiquette and Rules Were Outlined

At the start of the night everyone gathered around and listened to the hosts discuss the rules and etiquette for the night and ensure that everyone was aware of the evenings’ Dungeon Master’s who were the rule enforcers. What they said went. They were the authorities and their rulings were the highest, other than the hosts.

Once my Chaperone arrived I had met so many wonderful new people, had a couple of drinks and was feeling a little bit more relaxed, and I was so sad that I would have to leave soon. Together we had a cigarette before he said he was going to tie one of his girls. I was entranced. That sounded amazing.

Shibari Suspension

He showed me over to the rope mat and told me where to sit and explained that I was allowed to watch but not touch the people during the scene. It reminded me of an art exhibition or a performance. I watched in awe as he connected the strands of rope to the ring on the ceiling and hoisted his model off the ground, spinning her this way and that, her eyes closed in absolute surrender.

After they were finished, and his rope was once again tied and put away he came over to me. “What did you think?”

I Looked Over the Shibari Mat In Awe

I told him how artistic and impressive it looked. That it was breathtaking to fly like that.

“Wanna try?”  He Asked.

My eyes widened and I vaguely remember nodding slightly as we walked over to the mat. We stood apart.

Hhe said kindly “take off your dress please.”

Being a little body conscious, I had worn several layers which I diligently slipped off along with my cuban thigh highs and garter belt, leaving only my ivory embroidered set and joined him on the mat beneath the carabiner.

We sat cross legged, knees touching, looking directly at each other as he asked me if I had any injuries, if I was scared, and he outlined if there was anything I didn’t want to do. I said I wasn’t sure. He smiled, a sweet and cunning smile full of mischief that I mirrored back.

He simply said. “Call red if you are uncomfortable and I will stop.” I nodded.

He Gave Me A Safe Word For If I Felt Uncomfortable

We went through touching my fingers and flexing my wrists so that I was aware of how my own body and nerves felt.  So that if they started to feel strange or constricted whilst in the rope I could let him know immediately and he could untie me before anything bad was to happen.

“Close your eyes.” He said.

I was aware of him moving behind me, his large arms sweeping along my fingers and up to my shoulders, his chest against my back, his lips against my ear.

“Breathe” he commanded,.

And we breathed together, a big sweeping movement, the air rushing into our lungs while he rolled my shoulders back and down, straightening my spine, hands slipping down my arms to tug at hands and gently bring them across my chest as we breathed in again.

Soon he took one arm before the other and wrapped them behind my back “Stay” he growled in a low voice.

I Felt The Rope Against My Wrists

The rough brush of rope slid against my wrists, wrapping around the flesh as he bound them there, dragging up and over, across and under until my chest and arms were bound against my body.

Grinning ever so slightly, standing above me, asking if I was ok, checking in and waiting for the ok, he pushed me over, tipping me off balance, starting the rope this time on my right ankle, the delicious stringy coarse fibres rough and cool, each knot he made up my leg a perfect pause in his work.

Pushing my knee up he secured my ankle to my hip, tipping it from side to side, his smile never faltering, like a cat with a mouse, his eyes never leaving mine. My chest rose and fell, strained against the cage the rope had made across the mounds of each breast.

Deftly, quickly, my other leg was tied at an angle to the other before once again he pushed me over, standing over me, his foot and weight on my calf.

My Breathing Was In Short Fast Gasps

My breath rushed out in fast gasps, his foot pressing a little harder. His hands felt bigger than I knew they were as he rolled me over, my legs perched on the mats, my chest against the floor and my face covered by my hair.

I heard the clip of the metal above me and for a second forgot to breathe. I heard the rope unfurl from its neatly packed coils, striking the mats.

Then he was on me.

Hands moving with calculated speed, finesse and strength. The rope wove in between the harness between my fingers and arms against my back that if I wanted to I could still move ever so slightly. His weight left me momentarily before I felt the tug of pulley lift me gently from the ground.

Teetering on just one knee, my head still drawn down I could make out the feet of the spectators. Blood pumped through my ears and I could feel him working more rope into the tie around my ankle.

Playfully, he slapped the base of my foot with a knot of rope. It wasn’t that I cried out. The sound that left me was more than that. It was delightful.

I Lifted Off the Ground When Two Ropes Pulled Together

Two ropes pulled together holstered me up into the air above the ground.

And the world grew still.

The air felt cool against how hot my skin felt against the feel of the rope biting into me with delicious delicacy. Hands rand across my flesh, steadying me, checking me.

A finger sliding underneath my chin to tip my head upwards  to meet his gaze. He may have asked me, but I didn’t hear, but I didn’t need the words. They passed unspoken between us, drowning in the look that bore into me. Ready?

I nodded.

There are no words that can describe the weightlessness and surrender of gliding through the air unhindered by reason or thought. Your trust is given to the hands of another who stands above you, guiding and measuring every moment, like a calculated dance caged and captured in rope.

Time felt like nothing up there.

Once lowered, I melted onto the floor, a pool of my own euphoria and the undressing began. Each piece of rope came off with a rhythm that scrapped like a slow silken scarf that bit with fire and ice all at the same time.

It was bliss.

I Was Lowered And Hit The Floor In A Pool Of Euphoria

I couldn’t remember sitting up. Very carefully he scooped me up to sit upon his lap, his gentle voice reminding me to breathe. I stared out past him as someone passed me a drink with his permission.

“How do you feel?” he asked me.

I focused on him and stretched my weary legs and smiled a smile that felt like coming home after a long time away.

“Perfect.” I replied.