Twogether

Predatory behavior. Two words. Like that, written or spoken, they sound abstract, like the kind of word a doctor would use. However, when you experience it on your own, it becomes something else: a trauma you must overcome every day, and a commitment not to let it happen to anyone else. That’s why I do what I do. That’s why I founded Twogether.

I must say that most riggers are professional, responsible people. They want to make art, to get a great picture, or to perform wonderfully during an exhibition. Most of them deeply respect their models, they pay on time, and appreciate what you do.

Most of them are nice people, but not all of them.

I had been a rope model for about two years, and I should have known something wasn’t right. That’s what all victims say, right? The guy—I’m not going to call him a rigger—was already tipsy when I arrived. And by the time he finished tying me, he could barely stand on his feet. In the end, that played in my favor. He fondled me clumsily here and there, but he could go no further due to his drunkenness. He fell asleep, and I had to wait there, alone and tied, until he woke up and understood that he had to untie me.

I don’t want anybody else to live what I lived. In the end, I wasn’t abused, but it was because of sheer luck that nothing more regrettable happened. That’s why, from time to time, I look for ads of suspicious riggers. It’s easy to identify them. They are the ones that don’t pay attention to safety and dwell in mumbo-jumbo to hide the fact that they don’t know shit about bondage. All they want is to tie a girl up and get their way with her.

But this time, I don’t go alone. My team comes with me, and they stay close by. That’s why we call it Twogether. If things go wrong, we document the case and make sure that the asshole never gets near a rope for the rest of his life.

It’s a shitty job, but somebody’s got to do it.