When doing bondage ties you generally start by folding a rope in half. The middle of the rope, the loop where it’s doubled over, is called a bight. Like the thing you do with your teeth that I like. The two loose ends are called working ends. I teach you how to wrap it around my wrists, how to check for tightness — two fingers inside the wrap — and how to pass it between my hands. You tie me up to the crossbeam of the four-poster bed where we’ll fight for hours the next day, but let’s pretend I’m telling you this before all that ever happened. I’m on my knees. My hands above my head. I’m in front of the mirror but I don’t even realize it because I am looking at you behind me.
I’ve given myself up to your trust. I think, quietly, I could totally die right now.
I do not die that night; I will die, someday.
When you untie a submissive you check her pulse and examine the marks on her wrists. Make sure her circulation hasn’t been cut off and that her skin is not discolored. I’ve always thought the little tracks left by rope are pretty. The pale, exact, imprint of the rope’s weft, banding across my skin where I’ve been tied; the mark of an action that outlives itself, barely.
A reminder: You should always have a pair of flat-edged medical scissors on hand to quickly cut your submissive free in times of distress.
In competitive cycling it is important to never coast. Even when riding downhill the pedals should be moving so that you retain your rhythm. Slow down going into a curve and jump out of it. The phrase is, yes, jumping out. It is an anaerobic burst of effort. Now move smoothly back onto the straightaway. Continue to sprint.