Sometimes we just need a little pick me up. To ignore the niggling doubts and encroaching fears. Just a little pause, a lift in a world that is too much.
When something isn’t feeling right, I hope you have a safe space you can go. Somewhere you can set yourself free from the mess in your brain. A haven, a metaphorical blanket fort.
For me that is rope.
I’ve said it before with full honesty, rope saved my life. The joy of learning new skills. Topping, bottoming, watching, exploring. I’ve been intently reading up on erotic hypnosis over recent months, thinking up a safe space just for me – it’s by a stream, in the woods, with a flask of tea. The stream burbling over the rocks, the warm tea at my lips, dappled sunlight catching on the water… And rope in my hands, caressing my skin, biting into it as I add tension…
A rope hug is one of the kindest things I can give myself, the bindings calm me, ease my soul. But self tying isn’t the only outlet. I’m a lucky lady who has a fabulous friend in 1001011, my talented rope buddy who crops up again and again on here. We’d last tied together back in August. Three months between opportunity to throw rope at each other isn’t long at all. But so much can change.
Last week my brain was churning – cluttered and noisy the world being too much. But I didn’t realise quite how much I needed a pick me up.
Let alone THE pick me up that is rope time with 1001011.
Pulling off the dual carriageway I hit traffic. A bigger tailback than I’d seen previously, the sudden reduction in speed gave me opportunity to shift my focus from the road. And then the tears began to spill down my cheeks. Again.
I don’t recall if I’d said to 1001011 that I was hoping to feel fierce in his ropes – though it is likely as I usually ask for this. But I did give him the heads up that I was an emotional wreck and if I started to cry (which was highly likely) he could just tell me I stink of pee and ignore the tears.
Well… I didn’t cry!
The rope, the connection with my friend, the gentle, peaceful calm that creeps up on me when I’m in cruel, painful predicaments… We had inspiration for the morning, and the pictures are gorgeous! (Yes, yes… I will share them soon enough.) But after lunch he was pondering how to get me flying. If we had time as much as the tie itself. Turns out we did!
Chest harness in place, upline attached, one leg up in the futumomo, I had one foot on the floor. With the lights on he left me in a partial suspension, balancing on my right foot, I could feel the nylon ropes supporting me, caressing me, hurting me…
He left me there, to feel the rope, while he took pictures, plotted his next move.
My body partially in flight, I tested the bonds, tested my body, and then started to trail my standing foot around on the floor. I don’t know how long I was there, how long it took me to pick up my foot. To battle gravity and win (with the one leg, at least.)
Time is irrelevant sometimes, and I’ve no idea how long I was dancing my leg in the air beneath my body. Initially I was lost in the shiny teal snake tangling from my ankle, my one thought being something along the lines of “oooh, pretty rope”. But I wasn’t to be lost in the twinkly thread for too long – he soon had my second leg in a Futomomo and I was wriggling and giggling and jiggling in his studio. Dangling from the bamboo suspension pole, and playing around in my bonds.
I’m surely not the only one to find peace in bondage, or in 1001011’s ropes. In that moment though, nobody existed outside of our little rope bubble, and only calm-and-relaxed-Barefoot existed inside my head.
How precious is that?
What do you do when you need a little pick me up? (Or even a big one!) Please do share how you get yours in the comments.
From the story of how the barefoot sub became the woman she is today, to toy reviews, with a hefty dose of contemplation, a sprinkling of erotica and a LOT of nudity in between, you can be sure to find something to tickle your fancy at A Leap Of Faith.