In 2013, I stumbled upon a comic book panel on my Tumblr feed that featured Wonder Woman standing over a captive woman tied and bound with the superhero’s lasso. I wanted to be the captive in that comic, tightly enclosed in the rope at the mercy of a mighty Amazon. But part of me also wondered how it would feel to be Wonder Woman, standing triumphantly over the captive.
“I didn’t expect being tied to be so meditative for me. I breathed deeply and slowly, feeling present in my body like never before while enjoying the sensation of the rope against my skin. ”
A year or so later, I happened to check out FKA Twigs’ music video for Pendulum, which featured the artist suspended in the air while her body was bound in rope. At that point, I did what most millennials do when curiosity strikes: I went straight to Google. But when the search results only featured thin, pale white women tied in colorful rope, I talked myself out of it.
I had a very tenuous relationship with my body: the shape of it, the weight of it. The stress, depression, and trauma that characterized my quarter-life crisis all contributed to my fuller, rounder frame. For the better part of the early 2010s, I could barely find clothes that fit my body—and it was hard to fathom that same body, the body I struggled to love on most days, tied and knotted. Since I was unsuccessful in finding examples of fat Black women bound and suspended, I thought perhaps I was searching in vain. If I couldn’t see femmes who looked like me tied in rope, suspended in the air, bound into submission, then how could I imagine it for my brown-skinned, big-bodied self?
***
By 2020, my relationship with my body had transitioned to a place of radical acceptance. While some folks were praying they would dodge gaining the so-called “pandemic 15,” I grew a fondness for my body that I hadn’t been able to access before. With so much time spent at home, I put my growing lingerie collection to good use and began taking sexier pics of myself—a source of solo exploration into my erotic side. I also decided that I also wanted to revisit my rope dreams—this time to find out if I could find where the Black riggers and rope bottoms hung out on the internet.
One of the first images I saw of a Black woman bound in rope was Gawddess Blane, a gorgeous dark-skinned woman whose body and shape wasn’t much different than mine. For years, I believed that perhaps there was no room in the kink and rope community for fat, Black women. The day Gawddess Blane showed up on my Instagram timeline, I’d never been so happy and excited to be wrong about something in my life.
That is when I started going to virtual rope lovers’ munches, centering Black folk in kink. By the time I attended my first virtual munch via Zoom in early 2021, there were so many more of us rigging, being suspended and contorted in the air, and sensually tying others or ourselves. Soon after, I connected with plus-size Black femmes who happened to be riggers or rope bunnies on my Instagram feed or in other places, and I wanted to tap in and really start my rope journey, once and for all.
Seeing more Black and plus-size representation renewed my desire to explore rope again. Last summer, I had the privilege to be tied by the talented and fabulous Neffie Khaos of The Knotty House. This lovely, brown-skinned femme tied me in a spiderweb, my arms wrapped around my chest, positioned in a way that allowed me to hug myself. I sat in a lotus position on the floor while Neffie meticulously tied the rope around my body. I didn’t expect being tied to be so meditative for me. I breathed deeply and slowly, feeling present in my body like never before while enjoying the sensation of the rope against my skin.
I closed my eyes and an image of my late Nana’s smile found me. I began breathing more deeply, then came cathartic tears rolling down my face. Another woman quietly came to my side to wipe my tears away while my arms and hands were bound and Neffie checked in with me while tying a few more knots. I felt held and cared for—the way I’ve always wanted to feel when embraced by the rope. I was at peace for the first time in a long while; I consider that peace as a gift the rope gave me, facilitated by a Black woman who happened to be an attentive and skilled rigger.
During my self-tie journey, I try to channel those moments of peace again. Tying myself helps me bond with my rope and my body’s fullness in a way I didn’t know was possible.
And if being bound by anyone, even myself, won’t make me feel the way a Clark Sisters harmony sounds, I don’t want it.
What draws me to kink is not necessarily pain but leaning into the full spectrum of physical and emotional sensations. When I bottom for a heavy impact scene, it is the sting of the floggers as well as the wind against my back that gives me the greatest pleasure. If it’s a wax scene, the most delicious point is when the hot wax first makes contact with my skin. Even the cathartic tears rolling down my cheek when my scene partner praises me is like a sweet release. Until recently, there was one sensation I longed for: the feeling of rope taut around my plush body.
As a descendant of enslaved Black folks, I can’t ignore how our relationship with rope begins as a complicated one. The rope was used to subdue and hang us from trees as a reminder to stay in our place. But when a Black rigger ties me, and when I bind myself, I accept an invitation for liberation through the connection between my body and the rope. As some Black kinksters find power in reclaiming whips, I am finding my roadmap to power and peace. Becoming one with the rope when tied makes me feel free; I am held by the rope, supported by it, healed by it.
About the Author
Lola Rosé is a Black, queer, polyamorous, married, femme living in the Mid-Atlantic. She is a storyteller and spiritualist by day, and a sensual bottom who sometimes tops by night. Lola writes about Black kink, Black love, and Black sensuality. In her spare time, she collects vinyl records, takes care of her plants, practices yoga, gags over fashion, and shares consensual cuddles with her friends and loves.
About the Artist
Wenjia Wang is a freelance illustrator based in NYC. She is a member of the Society of Illustrators and has been awarded in professional illustration competitions including 3X3 Magazine, American Illustration, Graphics, and MoCCA. Wenjia uses both traditional and digital media, using bright, refreshing, and tender color palettes to catch the audience’s eye. But her work also delivers messages to make people think or find elements to relate. Follow Wenjia on Instagram.
