2 Dec

“Come here,” He says.  “Go ahead.  Sit down right there.”

He gestures to the floor.  He’s spread a towel on the floor, right next to the base of the table.  It’s just a base, huge, heavy wood, with claw feet.  

The slab of wood that would be the “table” isn’t there.  There’s a wooden platform on top of the base, where the table would go, but that’s all.  

My hands are tied already.  It is a routine i know now.  

“Hold your hands out,” He says.  And He means both of them, palms facing each other, about 5 or 6 inches apart.

He used to use leather cuffs, but not anymore.  It is rope now, each wrist wrapped in rope, connected with rope.  He works a metal ring into the rope running between my hands that He uses to attach me.  

My hands are already tied when He gestures to the floor.  My hands are tied and of course i’m naked.  

Looking down, i can see rope wrapped around the base of the table, thick rope ~ like for a ship or something.  

“Go ahead,” He says again.  “Sit.  Get comfortable.”

 It’s not so easy, getting settled on the floor with my hands tied together, but  i do,  a little hesitant, not sure what’s coming next.

He has already put the collar on me.  The one with the rings in the ends that He fastens together with a padlock.  i can feel the padlock heavy on my skin.  Cool at first, then warming with the heat of my body.

He squats beside me.  Begins to tie me, fastening the ring between my hands to the rope around the table.

Pulling the rope close, so my hands are flush against the claw foot at the base.

i shift my body ~ i had been kneeling, but i sit, and He looks surprised.  “I told you to get comfortable,” He says.

“Yes, Sir,” i say.  “i was ~ i am ~ i just…” and it trails off, ’cause it doesn’t really matter.  And He’s not listening, He’s making sure i’m tied securely.

Satisfied at last, He stands.  “There,” He says.  “You could probably get loose if you really wanted to.  Or even move the table.  But i don’t think you’re going anywhere.”

“No, Sir,” i say.  “i don’t think i am either.”

“Good,” He says, smiling.  “I’m going to take a shower.  I’ll be back.”

Alone, naked, collared, tied to the table leg.  

i can hear the water running.  Hear Him moving around.

i feel my spirit settle.   i am comfortable.  i’m not going anywhere.  

i am content.

13 Responses to “Tied”

  1. Mick December 2, 2011 at 6:18 am #

    languishing. good strategy. Mick

    • aisha December 2, 2011 at 11:30 am #

      Hey Mick,

      The first time I read this I thought you were laughing. Right? Stupid phones. Or computers. Whatever.



  2. vanillamom December 2, 2011 at 8:18 am #


    like for real???

    that is fucking AWESOME….oh oh oh…he’s got you tied up in more than rope, missy…


    • aisha December 2, 2011 at 11:24 am #


      lol. – who you calling ‘missy,’ missy??

      And yeah it was for real… And um, yeah, tied up in more ways than one… No doubt.



  3. jade December 2, 2011 at 8:32 am #

    (smiles) So…he used something concrete to create the abstract change inside of you, right? Kind of like the work you do, no? You teach a skill set, they do concrete actions, and release some of the pains of life. Now…tell me that wasn’t a real experience you had. That it can’t be qualified. It can, of course, for you. You can qualify it, understand it, use it later to remind you to let go.

    That place (wistful sigh)…*that* place is a *damn* great place to be.
    And very real.

    Hugs to you…

    PS Maybe no one ever really finishes anything anyhow. A painter wishes they choose a different color. A builder knows exactly where the unseen inperfection in the drywall exists. A therapist knows exactly where the client came from and the client knows when they are ready for more.

    The thoughts that exist are still creating energy about the work done and therefore, the work is still ongoing….so….is it *really* done? Or just what we need to build on for the next canvas or human spirit? You don’t see the concrete changes in a person’s life. That does not mean it doesn’t exist and that it won’t create change in the lives they touch.

    i think of my therapists every time i eat an M and M and remember to just put one in my mouth to savor the experience —and get out of my head and into my body. 🙂

    • aisha December 2, 2011 at 11:27 am #


      Laughing… Ok, ok, yes ma’am. I get your point.

      And yeah. It’s a sweet, sweet place to be.



    • aisha December 2, 2011 at 11:28 am #

      Omg. Stupid iPhone. Missed the whole last half of your comment. Sheesh.

      More later.

  4. nancy December 2, 2011 at 9:14 am #

    Lucky you.. How happy that place can be.

    • aisha December 2, 2011 at 1:34 pm #

      Thanks, Nancy~

      Yes it is wonderful!



      Sent from my iPhone

  5. Bill December 2, 2011 at 10:08 am #

    You need to listen when he says get comfortable, he has long range plans and you were thinking short term, liked the way you told the story!

    • aisha December 2, 2011 at 1:36 pm #

      Thank you, Bill. I’m glad you liked it. He is a long term planner, for sure !


      Sent from my iPhone

  6. thesubmissivebf December 2, 2011 at 6:49 pm #

    What more can I say…its beautiful. One in a million.

    • aisha December 3, 2011 at 5:56 am #

      Thanks, butterfly!



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