Shibari Is Communication

Shibari is Communication

I’m a very competitive person. More than you can imagine. I always have to win, no matter what. I don’t care about the prize, if there is any, I have to prove that I can do it better than anyone else. Better than you. I would have never imagined that Shibari is communication.

I like Shibari. Actually, I am a rigger. I like how difficult it is. A wrong knot and you can hurt someone’s nerves. A rope tied too strongly, and people can faint. A failed suspension and you can send somebody to the hospital. I like the risk. Most of all, I like to see other, less capable riggers, wondering how I can do what I do. Suspension is the most difficult part of Shibari, and it’s my specialty. I’ve tried it dozens of times, each time more difficult than the previous one. I always won.

I was the best, so I couldn’t understand why none of the bottoms with whom I worked seemed to like me. They did their job, they got their pay, and that was it. I heard other riggers talk about how much they enjoyed working with this or that bottom, how they had long conversations after the scenes, and I wondered why this didn’t happen to me.

I tried to find out, so I asked a few questions to my bottoms, but they seemed to be afraid of me and they only answered vaguely. It wasn’t until I worked with Alissa that I got a real answer. You see, Alissa wasn’t the kind of person who keeps her mouth shut, so she told me the truth. She told me more than I wanted to hear, but now I can say it was the best. She made me realize that I had seen Shibari only as a technical stunt. I had totally forgotten that it is also an act of communication between human beings. That’s why, even though my suspensions were perfect and complex, none of my bottoms were satisfied when we finished.

I have changed. I try to never forget that I am working with a human being. And I think it’s getting better. I learned a lot by understanding that Shibari is communication.

This is my Shibari story.