How is it that Japanese rope bondage looks the way it does today? It’s time to put my fingers on a handful of historical points that have greatly influenced my approach to sadomasochism. Rope as a material plays a significant role in Japanese history and culture. In the lack of iron, rope was for a long time the material for binding things together. Be it scaffolding for massive wooden constructions, elaborate ceremonial dresses or even prisoners. In fact, tying prisoners with rope (versus shackling them in iron) represents the oldest documented tradition of bondage, called Hojo-Jutsu. None of this had anything to do with eros. 

The way rope came to be married to the erotic world was via the world of art in the form of wood block carvings. Initially, Ukiyo-e flourished in the 1700s to 1900s – this was the art of making coloured paper prints from carved wood blocks. Traditionally, such prints depicted landscapes, cultural events, famous people and war scenes. During the same period, eros was strictly controlled by the hierarchical government (ironically, it still is today in the tightly monitored red light districts and pixelated porn). But whatever you try to repress eventually finds expression, and Shunga, the art of erotic Japanese wood prints emerged. They were often made by the same Ukiyo-e artists but under pseudonyms. One famous artist called himself Seiu Ito who started to depict Japanese horror stories as erotic imagery (‘eroguro’ in Japanese). One wood print showed a woman pregnant with a demon baby being hanged in ropes over a boiling cauldron, waiting to have her belly cut open. In his fascination for bondage, Ito photographed his pregnant wife in a similar position in 1921 and one of the first known erotic rope bondage images was born.

The research of erotic rope bondage continued as technology evolved in drawing, photography, magazines, movies and eventually live performances. All censored and hidden away from the mainstream Japanese public. The people who spearheaded this evolution were often part of the Japanese underground scene in a mix of red light entertainers, porn actors and directors, and the mafia.

The Patterns of Rope

As the Japanese bondage style rapidly developed alongside a flourishing economy during the 1980s, 1990s and 2000s, two main branches emerged. One focused on technical tying which led to the development of suspension techniques and advanced patterns. And  another focused on the eros of deviant fantasies. Both were performative in many ways. They both aim to interact with a witnessing audience – either through exploring the stories of eros or displaying technical patterns and complex positions. The life story of one of my Japanese teachers explains the technical evolution of the first branch. He was making a living from performing rope bondage in Tokyo. Twice a week, he was on stage. Eventually, the audience pushed for more and more spectacular ties. They wanted to see bodies hanging in the air, twisted and contorted. To satisfy demand, he needed to search for many different partners. Sometimes, he travelled to another city and got assigned a partner he didn’t know beforehand, so he needed a foolproof system which always worked on stage. If he were to damage his partners, he would soon be out of business. People noticed his style and began asking to learn about his foolproof system, so he started to teach his patterns. He gave them each their names. and step by step instructions. He even gave certifications to his students. In the end, he had created a school (Ryu). Over the years, many other Japanese masters started to create their own school with their own variations, giving birth to the idea of Japanese rope bondage as a highly technical and regulated practice.

The Eros Of Rope

My own style of tying is more influenced by the exploration of the eros. After I returned from Japan, I studied with a Danish couple called Yukinaga Max and his wife Tina. Max got his name from a legendary character in the Tokyo underground scene, Yukimura (Yukinaga means ‘young Yukimura’), who you’ll meet many times in this book.

Yukinaga could have said something along the following lines: Feeling beautiful, twisted to the maximum, emotionally vulnerable and part of an erotic story. This is when rope bondage turns into art, when it engages an explorative mindset to understand our eros from as many perspectives as possible.

Sitting behind her, she is waiting for me to take the first step. Hands in her lap. I turn them upwards to trace a finger along the sensitive skin of the palm towards the wrists. Maybe she touches me back as an act of reassurance that everything is okay, that she wants this. Then I grab her wrist decisively, firmly, not aggressively. Slowly pulling her arms behind her back, I let her hands gently touch her ass to bring the attention downwards to her sex, away from our hands. With her hands tied behind her back, I’m beginning to wrap her body. Or, as  Yukinaga often said, I push my energy into her. It can be tight and fast, almost knocking the breath out of her, or slow and seductive. Every other wrapping is a paradox between holding and exposing. 

Tying the upper body is the most fundamental technique in rope bondage, and I love this introduction, a handshake, and a getting-to-know-each-other moment the most. This is sacred for me; tying the upper body was the first thing I learnt on my bondage journey, the first thing I teach, and the last thing I’ll probably do.

When I first started studying old Japanese bondage pictures, I was fascinated by the wrapped bodies. In the old photographs, the wrapping was crude, and the rice rope was harsh and thick. With time, the style evolved into something sophisticated—the materials developed into the handmade Ogawa jute I use today. There are many reasons for this evolution. Most of it is functional, making more complicated and potentially dangerous forms of bondage safe enough to practise while maintaining aesthetics and intimacy. It’s also driven by beauty and craftsmanship and challenges one to keep discovering while at the same time honouring a legacy. The bound person will feel the complexity of the bodily position and the carefully decided rope wrapping, which will resonate in their emotional body. It’s a reminder that the person being tied is the heart of the entire bondage experience. Without them as subject, there would be no reason for the session.