Entwined
Caught up in a web of rope, your in your happy place, secured by your rigger, you've a smile upon your face
No room for struggling, but always room to breath, bound in so many ways, too many to conceive
Hands high above your head, or tight along your side, legs closed together or maybe open wide
Blood rushing to your head, you're hanging tied and bound, you love to be in bondage, dangling off the ground
Rope burns and chaf marks, on your pretty skin, a reminder of the night you had, you stroke them and you grin
You also like it on a bench, you're quite happy on the floor, but now you've tasted hanging, it's your favourite style for sure
But sometimes when you're alone and your rigger can't be found, you often try to tie yourself, you have a play around
Ropes of different colours, you choose one to suit your mood, you love the feeling of rope on your skin, you tie yourself up nude
Each ties a pattern, they are quite a work of art, as intricate as spiders webs, maybe not just when you start
But with a little practice, it may take a fair old time, you will get the hang of it, just keep trying, you'll be fine
So when your favourite riggers busy, or just to far away, you can tie yourself, you'll always get to play
Ron
