the life and musings of a kinky slut


Awesome friends introduce you to awesome people, who then become your awesome friends. And awesome friends do awesome things for each other.


Through my friend N3rddom, I met Nomad, a quiet sweet creature who loves rope as much, if not more, than I do. Even more than learning about ties, though, Nomad loves to treat rope.

So, when I wanted to create a natural fiber kit, my first natural fiber kit, and I just happened to hang out with Nomad while watching her treat hemp she had dyed herself, I saw an opportunity to make us both happy.

After the quickest haggling session of my life, it was set. Nomad would purchase a spoil of about 500′ of untreated hemp rope. She’d dye and cut the lengths I requested, and be rewarded for her efforts in cold hard cash.

Months passed. There were FetLife messages (Rope!), updates, requests for colors and specific lengths. My only deadline hope was delivery before Shibaricon.

And then the message: her project was complete. I could pick up my rope from N3rddom, who had assisted in Nomad’s efforts.

When I came to visit N3rddom, my package was a small cardboard box wrapped in brown paper with rope chord holding it together.

Untying the bow, and unwrapping the paper, and finally opening the box, there it was:

4 – 30′ deep red lengths
4 – 30′ dark black lengths
4 – 15′ dark red lengths
4 – 15′ dark black lengths
1 – ~15′ undyed length

I picked up a coil, brought it to my face, and sniffed. Heaven.

I was gitty with excitement. I had my kit. Shit, I technically have two kits.


Though I picked up my rope about a week ago, tonight was the first night that I played with it. I made sure to touch, feel every length. I flicked my wrist, uncoiling each with a flourish.

The hemp wrapped around my body. I self suspended. I tied myself in a modified Ebby. I wore the hemp as fashion, experimenting with different styles and manner of rope dress. I played. Danced around. Meditated. Smiled.  So many pretty pretty ligature marks.

When my life goes to shit, I turn to rope. When boys are stupid, I turn to rope. When I feel lost, I turn to rope. When I am happy, playful, joyous, I turn to rope.

Tonight was awesome, and hopefully only the first of many more hemp-ful nights to come.

Categorised as: Friends | N3rddom | Nomad | Rope

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