I often contemplate the process of learning while watching the flames of wood infused with human fears and dreams burn into the long dark night of the soul. What exactly is taught or even wished for by my students? Sometimes I think I learn more from how my kado teacher (the Japanese art of arranging flowers) greets me in the morning and brews the tea we share; than from the things she says about cutting leaves, shaping branches and picking flowers. There is a way of being, being taught, by being. In Japanese, it’s called dō or the way. The way things are being done. So when people ask me exactly what will happen when we venture into the realms of sadomasochism and esoteric eroticism, I get scared that I will conceal the magical forest by naming all the botanical specimens. The naive part of me wants to simply say – trust me; I’m a careful gardener.
However, if I break down my teachings, there are four philosophical themes—surrender, power, desire and shame. Surrender is the most introverted process; sure, you’ll always work with others, but it’s a profoundly personal journey to discover what you need and want to surrender, and the primary modality is rope bondage. Power, on the other hand, is relational. It’s submitting your control to empower a dominant and discover what they will do with this power, what sadomasochistic play you will create together. Desire is a group process where you’ll be a part of a kinky family, a little bit like a theatre ensemble, that will unfold their shared deviant fantasies through rituals and play parties. Finally, Shame is an extension of surrender, which focuses on the emotional over the physical.
Are you ready for this?
Freedoms And Responsibilites
Participating in these group processes is intimate and vulnerable. It is always a balancing act between freedom and responsibility—or selfishness and self-sacrifice—or safety and bravery. Finding oneself in either extreme can result in paralyzing fear or traumatizing chaos. Dancing on this slackline of mystery is the fundamental skill we practice together.
In a way, we are playing a game of Jenga[1], where blocks balance in an intricate pattern—some are explicit rules, others are cultural norms, yet some are contradictory commandments. Shapes and forms differ between cultures and communities. Eastern Europe is very different from Scandinavia, which is again different from Japan, Brazil, New York City, and Berlin, which also differ widely from each other. There is no exact blueprint but a continuously woven social web of interactions. Yet, if enough blocks are compromised, the play will collapse, and people may be hurt.
For many of us, these human dances of life are evident and almost second nature. However, sometimes things, people, and even worlds fall out of balance and must gently (or violently)—but always lovingly— be guided back. Below are seven almost universal freedoms and responsibilities to help you navigate these intimate and vulnerable spaces.
1. Settle the score before you leave
To play, one must be vulnerable. To be vulnerable, one must trust. To trust, one must know that someone will help ‘settle the score’ when hardship happens—that you are not alone. Preferably all the persons involved in whatever happened. Listening, assuming accountability, and saying I’m sorry often go a long way. Sometimes more is needed, but at least by being there, you enable this process. Leaving without settling the score means unfinished business and long-term damage to the social web we are trying to weave.
2. Don’t kiss and tell
Also, to be vulnerable, one must trust that what I share with you—in words and actions—remains safe with you. You can always talk about your own experiences, what happened to you, and what you felt. But leave everyone else involved anonymous by not mentioning their names and being thoughtful with what details you reveal about them. To gain the trust of others, demonstrate that you don’t kiss and tell when retelling your grandiose adventures of the past, just as you won’t kiss and tell in the future when you speak about the plays of today.
3. Don’t cockblock vulnerability
Similarly, to be vulnerable, one must trust that vulnerability is met with respect. When uncomfortable with others’ vulnerability, one often tries to make the vulnerable moments disappear by arguing for solutions, diverting attention to silly jokes, playing the devil’s advocate or playing the overprotective saviour. If someone can express their vulnerability in a storm of intense emotions, watch them in awe—you likely have something to learn from them. You enable others’ vulnerability by being vulnerable yourself; you cockblock vulnerability by playing the tough guy who doesn’t give a shit about anything.
4. Welcome all your emotions
When I demonstrate a particular exercise, there will be an emotional, non-verbal dialogue with my assistant. Don’t try to copy our experience. Instead, have your own journey. For me, a group process is perfect when someone is laughing, another is crying, a third is moaning, a fourth is confused, and so on. Know that all parts of you are welcome.
5. No fucking charity
You’ll pair up in exercises, join trios and quadruplets, and do group rituals. Even if you promised someone beforehand, and it doesn’t feel right in the moment, listen to the latter. Don’t do things out of charity. I take pride in trying to provide structures where it’s easy to opt out without creating an awkward situation for anyone.
6. Play inside the play, not outside
During our group processes, we have moments inside and outside of play. And we have rituals, signs, and language to move in and out. Some examples are entering a circle to indicate our willingness to play, placing our arms across the chest for a break, kneeling as a sign of submission, and establishing eye contact before body contact. The exact semantics may change, but you must learn to distinguish and respect when play is happening and not. Inside, you may play with power, be seduced by it, revel in it, or rebel against it. Outside play, avoid being a macho or mothering dominant, as well as a helpless submissive or a assholish trickster.
7. Knowing, not knowing
I’m not your Guru Buru, nor your mommy or daddy. If anything I say doesn’t make sense to you, don’t do it. Similarly, the group processes are appreciated because they focus on the philosophical, emotional, or spiritual aspects of the eros, not detailed teaching of techniques. Suppose a specific skill is foreign to you (like face slapping, choking, tying a rope around the neck, pushing trigger points in the diaphragm, guiding the spine through twisting the neck, etc.); it is your responsibility to acknowledge this. Recognising the unknown can be tricky, but it’s an essential meta-skill to manage risk-taking in your play. However, the exact technique is often not the main point, so you can ask me for an alternative or simply do your own thing. Sometimes, I’ll also have time to guide you step-by-step. You can also ask before attending if you are worried that your previous experience isn’t enough.
If this text seems complicated to you, you likely have a lot to learn from sharing intimate and vulnerable experiences in a group. Please notify the organizers if this is the case so I can keep an extra eye on you. If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to ask beforehand or during the group process itself. If you have a lot of previous experience or a more senior position in the group, I will have higher expectations of you to act as a role model. If you are new and insecure, you’ll likely have more leeway to learn our culture. If you are deemed unable or unwilling to comply, you will likely be asked to adjust your behaviour or leave the group process entirely.
[1] Jenga is a kids’ game where players take turns removing one block at a time from a tower constructed of 54 blocks. Each block removed is then placed on top of the tower, creating a progressively more unstable structure. The game ends when the tower falls over.
Entering A Sex-Positive Space
Working with the eros as a group process often raises questions about sexuality, nakedness and consent, especially when using modalities from the space in between esoterism and sadomasochism. Most bluntly, people ask me if it’s a swinger’s party or an orgy that they are going to. Or if something that is often considered very private or even sacred to them will be kept safe in the presence of others.
The best answer I can give is by defining a sex-positive space.
Basically, it means welcoming all forms of sexuality, and very importantly, that includes no sexuality. It’s a sex-positive space, not a sex-mandatory one. It includes all forms of orientation, like genders, sexes, practices, kinks, devotions, or fetishisations. Simultaneously, it’s not a “safe space” nor a separatist space for any one kind of orientation. It praises the idea from BDSM that “Your Kink Is Not My Kink, But Your Kink Is Okay”, which means if another person’s sexual orientation is triggering to you, then you move yourself elsewhere. But, still, everyone is submitting themselves to a shared and often fairly particular theme, and if you deviate too far from that theme, you’ll likely and lovingly be told so.
It also borrows the idea from contact improvisation that “a dance” can be anything from fingers lightly touching for a fraction of a second to hours of diving deeply into slowness, embodiment and vulnerability. And both are valued equally. It aims to abandon the normative relationship escalator, which assumes that A must lead to B and C—a flirtatious compliment to a coffee—a date to a kiss—Netflix and chill to a one-night-stand—an innocent play to a long-term relationship. Instead, it invites you to relinquish your (and society’s) expectations and discover something uniquely unknown.
Obviously, consent and consciousness are essential. You’ll (almost) always be given an elegant and gradual way of escalating and de-escalating interactions that are slow and defined enough so you can remain conscious about what you are getting yourself into (or out of). That being said, sex-positive spaces do not replace therapy and depend on you and your nervous system being able to navigate a space of both intense and intimate human interaction. In the end, a sex-positive space is a space to celebrate the diversity and creativity of the eros in all its shapes and forms. And I’m genuinely sorry that I can’t provide a more scientific description, so in the end, I have to ask your trust to take a step into this mystery called life. Hopefully, I got you. And no, it’s not a swingers party nor an eye-gazing contest.
Consent, safer sex And Trauma Awareness
While consent, safer sex, and trauma awareness are paramount in my group processes, I do not offer a beginner-friendly nor theoretical introduction to the topic, like twenty good questions to ask when engaging with a new play partner, extensive self-inquiries on knowing what you want and how to communicate that, or learning how to interact with an unknown body for the first time. Don’t get me wrong, you’ll get to practice these skills in every exercise, but I will assume you already have a basic knowledge of them. Instead, I aim to help you dive deeper into these often emotionally fraught waters of intimacy and not knowing. One that, in an embodied way, balances artfully and respectfully between safety and bravery.
How consent, safer sex and trauma awareness are dealt with differs substantially in different cultures and communities, so I’ll communicate in person how it works in each of the spaces I offer, as it also varies based on the topic and level. If you want an introduction to my somewhat paradoxical landscape of knowing what one wants, check out Chapter 2: While We Fall in my book Rituals and Paradoxes. And I recommend that you travel with your own “safer sex kit” that might include disinfectant gel, emergency snacks, ear plugs, warm blanket, and yes maybe condoms. In the end, you know your needs; if you don’t, it’s time to start reflecting upon them.
If you are looking for that introduction to consent, I recommend getting familiar with the work of Betty Martin and their School of Consent.
Agenda
ANDY BURU
on
SURRENDER
60%
ROPE
20%
SM
10%
RITUAL
10%
PARTY
Est. 2017
Why I keep teaching bondage
What happens to a teacher and student when technical mastery becomes boring? I spent ten years perfecting Japanese bondage, patterns, suspensions, sequences et al., after discovering rope in Tokyo in 2004. But perfection is a dead end. So I dove into what rope was really teaching me: the paradoxes of desire, the vulnerability of power, and the delicacy of shame. I found similar principles in the shadows of tea ceremonies, flower arrangements, martial arts—the unseen curriculum of Japanese aesthetics. In surrender, I return to where I started, rope in hand, to unveil what sadomasochism and the esoteric eros are really about.
P.S. It’s still a bonus if you like rope bondage!
Surrender is to trust, to let go and to fall—trusting that one will be caught by life, by love, by wonder, by another. Surrendering brings great pleasure when one learns to let go of controlling the body, the emotions, and the ego and devote oneself to something greater. It’s as applicable in lovemaking as well as in life in general. But unfortunately, there is an overvaluation of power in today’s society, and everyone is fighting for it, while surrender is undervalued.
Moreover, surrender touches upon masochism, physically enjoying endorphins rushing through the body and emotionally letting go of shameful limiting beliefs. The most basic idea I learnt from Zen Buddhism is that bliss emerges when we stop fighting and accept life as it is, and then there is no suffering. Before psychology considered masochism a disease, religion thought it to be the cure. And I think there is something to that when it’s conscious and consensual. In my experience, anyone can enjoy or at least find this exploration meaningful when it’s slow enough and well-balanced between safety and bravery.
Surrender traditionally belongs to the feminine aspect of the esoteric erotic polarity, but I’m convinced that it’s essential for everyone of any (and no) gender. Incorporating it into oneself can simply tickle one’s curious approach to life or become a life-long artistic endeavour, critical self-development, or passion for lovemaking. While teaching surrender, I also indirectly teach how to hold space for another’s process of letting go. Participants describe it as intimate, vulnerable and trusting. And it makes them more resilient to the hardships of life.
Sky and earth
As rope bondage is the primary modality for my way of teaching surrender, I offer it in two different variations, earth and sky. The difference is in the technicalities of patterns and positions. The sky variation always works with an external anchoring point, like a pillar, beam or piece of furniture, and more closely mimics the aesthetics of the late 20th-century Japanese masters. It invites the intensity of gravity and the exploration of physical distance with emotional intimacy, where the rope, as a material, becomes the third lover in this ménage à trois. In the earth variation, on the other hand, the rope is the cord tying two hearts together, philosophically speaking. There is no use of external anchoring points, and every movement is solely a power play, a reenactment of the eros between two beings, so instead, the aesthetics are more that of tango meets butoh meets aikido. It uses body weight and pressure for intensity and emphasises physical intimacy. Both variations are available to beginners after a short, free online course, but of course, knowing how to tie beforehand will unravel more subtle details and advanced interpretations.
Below is some inspiration for reading and packing in preparation for Surrender.
– a minimum of 3 lengths of rope—suggestively 5mm thick, seven-meter long in jute material
– 3 extra lengths of rope plus suspension gear, like a handful of carabiners and a climbing sling—if you are doing the SKY variation
– a strong stick—one-and-a-half meter long—if you are doing the SKY variation
– another 3 bonus lengths of rope—because it’s always good to have some extra
– a piece of cloth that can work as a blindfold—sometimes called tengui in Japanese, but any fabric will do
– something to cut your rope in the case of an emergency
In order to join any group process on the theme Surrender you must know a basic single column tie, how to extend rope and basic rope handling skills. You can learn it in my Online School for free (or elsewhere).
ANDY BURU
on
POWER
50%
SM
30%
RITUAL
20%
PARTY
0%
ROPE
Est. 2019
Five year celebration foreword
Five years have passed since I first taught on power, and while the theme has remained the same, the structure is constantly evolving. But maybe, more importantly, the participants change—not only who attends the group process but, more importantly, how they attend. The difference is most noticeable in the brave and loyal returnees, who know that the esoteric eros always has new mysteries to unfold if one is present and patient enough. In a way, it’s like a game of edging—coitus reservatus—to retain the energy within oneself—to ride the high, higher and higher—with no goal other than to remain in the power play. If I, as the dominant, would instantly reach for my ultimate desire, our scene would end shortly—even prematurely, I would argue. If the pain and pleasure intensified too rapidly, or if I would unearth every fetish and fantasy I ever had, basically spurting the last drops of life, metaphorically speaking, of course—no more mystery would remain.
Instead, I practice slowing down, feeling more with less. I elegantly refine myself to become more than an eager teenager. But the temptation is always there, taunting me to lose control. The slaves seduce me with their obedience, the sluts with their willingness, and the nymphs with their innocence. Of course, I can give up, fall from power, and let myself surrender—then we switch roles. Or I can attempt to remain, teasing myself indefinitely in these ritualic plays of the esoteric eros. How can I do that as the dominant without losing my vulnerability? Without numbing out my emotions, without losing my deviant creativity, without burning out as a give-always-and-only kink dispenser. We relentlessly keep exploring this paradox of power, and that exploration is my invitation to you.
Original introduction
Power, as a dominant, is vulnerable, as one has to expose their desire. The more deviant and taboo, the scarier it is, but still, both mainstream media and the sadomasochistic subculture overflow with caricatures of emotionless masters and mistresses hiding behind their cruelty. Instead, I think one should blossom in their raw self-expression. Power is an opportunity to explore new avenues of esoteric intimacy that are profoundly energetic and sensual. Far beyond plain and mundane fucking. Learning to wield and surrender to power consciously and consensually requires a great understanding of one’s boundaries and being safe and brave enough to reject anyone overstepping them. At the same time, one should be humble and have humour; anyone that has to assert their power with violence doesn’t own it.
Power is given to someone that deserves it because of their deviant creativity, rocksteady presence, and ability to create magical spaces. Discovering one’s very personal dominant persona is a journey which will significantly affect what kind of submissives they will attract. Luckily sadomasochism overflows with expressions of power, and there are several rituals to practice and embody. And learning the symbolism of fetish items is a priceless tool for this transformation. Being dominant is a paradoxical balance between holding space and being selfish. Holding space is learning how to create a safe container for oneself and others to play with power while being selfish is expressing desire.
But eventually, one realizes that the real key is to stop ‘the doing’ and simply be dominant and do as one pleases as if it is the most natural thing in the world. As dominance belongs to the masculine aspects of the esoteric erotic polarity, mastering it beyond gender becomes a way to simultaneously make a parody of existing power structures while reclaiming a more healthy relationship to masculinity. Playing with hierarchies in the ‘bedroom’ makes one more resilient to them in everyday life. And, of course, as in any play with polarity, there is also space to plunge into the other end—the submission and surrender—to learn, challenge, and worship. In old-school leather culture, no one would ever be allowed step into the boots of the dominant before wearing the collar of a slave. But I promise I’ll be both more flexible and gentle.
Below is some inspiration for reading and packing in preparation for Power.
– comfortable clothes for moving on the floor
– elegant, fetishistic and/or hedonistic clothes for moving in hierarchies
– clothes for being messy, or a readiness to be more naked
– a tool for stingy pain, maybe your grandma’s wooden kitchen spoon to an artisan-made 24-plait kangaroo leather single-tail
– pen and paper for notetaking
ANDY BURU
on
DESIRE
40%
RITUAL
30%
PARTY
20%
SM
10%
ROPE
Est. 2020
Five year celebration foreword
Over the years, desire has evolved beyond duality—yes, it’s a play of words. In the esoteric world, there is a notion that everything is one beyond the duality of polarity. And everything is just vibrations, mass and energy, they say, you know. But in my case, it’s very pragmatic, in the sense that no exercises will be done with just two people. Instead, we always work in trios and quadruples, solo by ourselves or together with the entire group. We will actively avoid the simple polarities of dominant/submissive, leader/follower, etc., because they are simply already explored. But there is a deeper reason: growing up in today’s society, most things get polarised, into black or white, left-wing or right-wing, masculine or feminine. Similarly, many concepts work by comparison; something is hot because something else is cold, and someone wins because another loses.
The esoteric eros is different because it embraces the ever-changing complexity of things and attempts to play with them in a win-win situation. Expect cognitive dissonance instead of straightforward truths because that is how the eros works—it’s a messy maze of desire filled with opportunities to explore. How do we know what to pursue intimately with others, and what should remain a private feverish daydream? It all comes down to being safe, brave, and vulnerable enough to share it. It’s not about you and the love of your life, happily married forever after, as promised in the fairytale of duality. Instead, it’s about being adopted into an ensemble of elegance and absurdity, where your forbidden desires appear petite and playful—BUT without turning into a circus or joking away the seriousness of the situation—this is the balancing act I offer you. And I do it because your desire deserves it.
Original introduction
Desires, the most nightly deviant ones, are often precisely the same things we rebel against during the day. Yes and no is closer to each other than feeling nothing. This is why we need contained rituals and conscious and consensual play parties. I believe that desire is like a seed buried deep in the subconscious; while it grows, it shapes our creativity and eros. If desire remains repressed, it will manifest itself in the most unexpected places. That’s why most people feel safer in a sadomasochistic dungeon than in a nightclub or even at the office.
Playing with desire borrows a lot of modalities from theatre, like mask possession, character creation, and ritualized scenes. And it teaches how one person’s desires can co-exist and even enhance the desires of another or a group of others in a sort of wordless negotiation. Play parties are often the arena of these fantasies, birthing endless, dream-like explorations into experiences that would be unimaginable in everyday life. The following morning, everything is slow; it’s like the world is readjusting itself back to normal again while the tribe is celebrating and integrating their wounds and victories, knowing that the results will revibrate far into the outside world.
Exploring desire is a layered process. When one layer peels away, another one appears. And there is an opportunity to deconstruct almost anything, like sexual orientation, gender, fetishes and kinks. It’s an empowering process of rediscovering oneself. However, desires are rarely a solo activity; if they were, they are likely to have been explored already. So exploring desire is a group process through interactions and witnessing. Seeing each other’s desires validates them, giving them life, and that makes us all both braver and safer because the shadows are out in the open.
Below is some inspiration for reading and packing in preparation for Desire.
– a wearable symbol of being the top/master/queen of motherfucking everything—like a grandmother’s diamond tiara, Tom-of-Finland leather pants, or your Masonic purple silk robe
– a wearable symbol of being the bottom/servant/slave—maybe your dog’s collar, most trashy lingerie, or a royal butler’s suit
– something that transforms your face—like a carnival papier mache mask, home-knitted pink balaclava, or shiny black latex hood
– a handheld mirror (or other reflective surface)—for perceiving yourself as another
– a washing kit—containing a water container, washing cloth, soap and towel
– an item of consequence—like a headmistress’s whip, a headmaster’s cane, or a heavy wooden spoon
– a delicate item worthy of a (human) altar—something to balance that may not be broken
– something you love to be fed—plus a golden tray, a vintage dish or a dirty dog bowl for serving it
– an item of fetisch—forbidden and taboo but simultaneously exciting and liberating—an item of divine power
– three sets of basic black clothing—to be anonymous
ANDY BURU
on
SHAME
40%
ROPE
30%
RITUAL
30%
SM
0%
PARTY
Est. 2023
“Shame is the intensely painful feeling or experience of believing that we are flawed and therefore unworthy of love and belonging. And everyone’s got it.” —Brené Brown
Shame, more than laws, governs the world. A monopoly of external violence enforces the law, while shame is internally self-regulating. Very often, we are our own harshest judges and deem ourselves unlovable. But what if we are all wrong—especially when we hide it away and pretend that shame doesn’t exist?
Playing with shame is paradoxical because we consciously and consensually invite another into something very private. Hopefully, these debauched investigations, carefully witnessed, will melt our shields away like the peeling of a boiled artichoke heart. Then we realise that we are more lovable than our self-sabotaging and limiting beliefs would have us think. Kill it with love, and marvel at the process, they say.
Grace is required, as shame is a fleeting feeling. Too much force or violence only results in denial, blame, and justification. Too little, and we joke away an uncomfortable situation. Equally important is presence: staying with the hardships, being and belonging together, instead of hiding behind a mask of doing. Shame is like drooling; it requires trust and relaxation to activate the parasympathetic nervous system. It’s closer to crying—letting go and letting someone in. Spitting, on the other hand, is aggressive and defiant, leading only to martyrdom.
The journey is emotionally masochistic. Just as in physical masochism, shame raises arousal—blood rushing to reddening cheeks—and therefore marries well with esoteric eroticism. Many are also ashamed of their sexuality: for being too much, too slutty, or not enough—too prudish. The Madonna and the whore. This vulnerability is at the heart of my erotic rope bondage; by shaping and presenting the body, I touch the mind and soul. Physically challenging ties, partially suspended in the air, may serve to wear down the protective walls that we so desperately try to lower on our own—to let others in, to be vulnerable.
Closely related is humiliation—to be put below something, abandoning all pride, being made one with the earth’s dirt. Descending this abyss makes us humble toward those who deserve it—or perhaps toward life itself. Exposing the face that wears the dual crown of beauty and intellect—how we present ourselves to the world, in language and gesture. Expect clamped tongues, devious, seductive words, drips of drool, messy faces, and crucified bodies. But most of all, expect to be seen in your shame, your vulnerability, and your beauty.
What others say
“I can shamelessly admit that Shame is my absolute favourite of Andy’s creations. It’s a course that touches upon the biggest societal and personal taboos and makes one experience many things that might have felt oh so shameful, bad, and wrong since childhood—but what if it’s okay? Because it is! This course is a deep dive into sacred, raw, playful intimacy in the safest possible space.
First, the workshop makes you analyze what exactly it is that makes you feel ashamed. The variety of exercises throughout the workshop days lets you figure out if it is having your body parts being exposed by ropes. Or maybe you have a hard time accepting that you want to be humiliated both physically and verbally or to treat someone like scum yourself.
How does it feel to shamelessly observe someone distorted but yet so beautiful in the tears you have caused them? In all that, you don’t have to take everything too seriously, either, but once you look straight into the bottom of Shame, it becomes fun, playful, and even very arousing.
Second, this course, for me, is a lot about witnessing. Over the workshop, you can safely observe yourself, your partner, or the whole group going through something deep and meaningful. Observing people facing their fears, desires, and taboos and how bravely they look into the hidden aspects of their lives and traumas has been the most rewarding experience. If you have a chance, I recommend sitting one or two exercises out and just witnessing what’s going around in the room. You’ll be amazed and in awe by this experience. Also, the shamed voyeur in you will be grateful.
Third, this course is the best way to experience what a safe space and a safe group of people really mean. It’s amazing how complete strangers come together, and within those 3-4 days, you get to know them more deeply than you have possibly known your family. I assure you, you get to laugh, maybe cry, share deeply, and feel encouraged to explore this sweet topic together. It always happens that the right people end up in this workshop. Long lunch breaks and well-chosen locations for this workshop will give you plenty of time to process and integrate and also enjoy solitude if that is what you need.
Andy stresses that he is not a therapist and his courses are not meant to be therapeutic, but somehow, people, including myself, always leave the course in a deeply content and expanded state. In addition to all the practical ties and use of tools and techniques that Andy will provide you, your mind will probably also be left with a lot to think about and possibly reconsider some things that are not that shameful after all.“ —Heidi
Below is some inspiration for reading and packing in preparation for Shame.
– a strong stick—one-and-a-half meter long
– a gag—preferably a ball, or just something ball-like that fits your mouth, maybe an apple
– a mirror—preferably handheld
– a soothing item—a vintage hair brush, silky soft fabric, or your favourite plush animal
– a cloth pin—wood is a beautiful material
– a small decorative bowl—perhaps intended for tea or even a teacup
– a serving dish—could be a silver tray, your grandma’s porcelain, or a heavy wooden chopping board
– a square piece of fabric, Chinese silk folding fan, or glossy x-rated magazine from the 70s—for hiding behind/underneath
– a marker for writing on your skin—you decide how permanent, perhaps a lipstick
– six to nine ropes—plus suspension gear if you are fancy
In order to join any group process on the theme Shame you must know a basic single column tie, how to extend rope and basic rope handling skills. You can learn it in my Online School for free (or elsewhere).
The Beginner’s Mindset
I believe in the beginner’s mindset. That means that I see my practice as an art and craft, continuously in need of time and attention. There is no diploma to be hung on the wall at the end of the day, but rather a promise to return for more practice. Hence, what I practice and what I teach is more or less the same for the past decade. There are new variations and depths, but to an outsider, it might look just the same. It’s easier to be a beginner because everything is new, so the reward feels much bigger. Eventually, when you return to my teachings but don’t see anything new in yourself at the end, I’ll gladly give you your money back because you are probably ready to leave. There is a Japanese concept called Shu-Ha-Ri — to obey — to question — to leave — that captures this process of learning beautifully.
Ⅰ
Obey
To obey is the peaceful and curious place to be. It requires almost zero previous experience or practical knowledge. You may be asked to spend a couple of hours reading a text or watching an online tutorial beforehand. The goal is to hold your hand tightly but still allow little detours and personal journies as you are introduced to the subject. You don’t have to know beforehand what you like and don’t like. You need no desires or fantasies. Instead, the teaching style will provide you with a smorgasbord of experiences to try, of which some you might love and others you might hate.
Ⅱ
Question
To question requires the courage to know what you want. And that takes some practical knowledge. You are expected to have experience with how your body and mind react in vulnerable and intimate situations and how to communicate your boundaries. You also have an idea about the fantasies and desires that lead you to these explorations. You will probably also be introduced to new niche techniques and be given both practical training and time to play. The goal is to provide you with a journey where you can surprise yourself and hopefully question both your beliefs and my teachings on the subject.
Ⅲ
Leave
To leave is the last step to becoming your own master. It requires you to have a practice of your own already. You are assumed to help others navigate consent, non-verbal communication, and all the grey zones that come with it. And have a sense of your traumas, triggers and possibly risky behaviours. Your exercises are more ritualistic and experimental and go on longer without breaking the play for snack breaks and check-ins. There is less focus on practical skills, as you are assumed to already have a big enough pallet to play, and instead, there is more emphasis on creating an environment for you to master your craft.
Sayōnara, ‘goodbye’
literally ‘if that’s the way it is’.
Below is the botanical list of techniques that I use when teaching.
Rope Bondage
Japanese way of bondage
Shu-ha-ri; to obey, question and leave. Your muscle memory will be drilled in some repetitive patterns (probably inspired by the Japanese granddaddy of ropes, Yukimura) while the mind is left to question your personal story for playing out these sadomasochistic desires.
Modern European improvisations
Inspired by dance, theatre and bodywork, we will approach rope bondage as a listening practice. Listening to yourself, your partners, and the time and space around you. Attempting to dissect and recompose rope as an intimate bond between people.
Exploring intimacy without sexuality
Everyone longs for intimacy, but it is often confused with sexuality. To fuck, as if that was the grand goal of all relationships. Learn to slow down, be more creative, and discover a myriad of other paths exploring intimacy.
Eastern and Western Eros
You will learn to create “a session” as a joint exploration of desires. We will work with defining identities, kinks and dynamics but also letting go of them and let passion rule. How much of your deviant self do you dear to express in your bondage?
Letting go of shame
If tight ropes and contorted body postures express physical masochism, then shame is the core of the emotional counterpart. Beauty, competence and elegance are all masks we wear to fit in. What if they are dropped or lovingly torn off to expose that raw, unfiltered you?
Surrender as a strategy for life
People who learn to endure are more successful in capitalistic life. Google the marshmallow challenge. However, people that endure are also the ones who burn out, get emotionally numb, and often wonder if life hasn’t more to offer. Welcome to try surrendering instead.
Connecting to esoteric eroticism and therapy
What is a spiritual practice, and what is nourishing for the soul? Rope bondage takes most people on vulnerable and intimate journies. Of course, it can just be for funs, but it’s also possible to give your actions a deeper meaning through ritual, intention and dedication.
Sadomasochism
Pain, predicaments and (f)punishment
Pain is both highly personal and relational. No one can ever feel your pain, but the source of it is everything. Are you suffering in devotion, getting punished for being naughty, or finding yourself in an impossible predicament to the sadistic glee of your dominant?
Bodywork and breathwork
Prana, the word of breath in many esoteric teachings, translates to life force. Manipulating the breath, muscle tension, and body torsion transforms the experienced reality: yours or another. Learn how to integrate this into your sadomasochistic play.
Tripping without drugs on endorphins and dopamine
When receiving pain, the body, mind and soul face a fundamental choice: surrender with endorphins or resist with adrenaline. Learning to give and receive both physical and emotional pain to fly away on the endorphin tripp will keep you and your partners giggly happy for days.
Domination and submission
Mastering this fundamental polarity of sadomasochistic play gives the leather floggers and jute ropes a deeper meaning. And it can be so deceivingly simple: in the bend of a neck, a spine moved slightly out of balance, eyes attention gently directed. This elegant silence speaks louder than any violence.
Sadism and masochism
The sadist and masochist seduce each other with their passionate, wild desires. At some point, pain and pleasure merge as waves of intensity wash over the lovers. Everything becomes orgasmic intensity. Learning to trust, encouraging each other to let go and finding yourself there together is the key.
Philosophical ideas about power
Everything in the world is about sex, except sex. Sex is about power. Learning to play consciously and consensually with hierarchies makes us more resilient against them in everyday life. Sadomasochism is, in many ways, a theatrical parody that turns our hardships into excitement.
Fetishism, leather and rubber
Explore the symbolic realm of smells, textures and aesthetics. Let them overwhelm you, possess you, redefine you. Let these cults and cultures guide you. But also learn to respect them, as they likely have been around much longer than you and will still be there once you are gone.
Rituals
Tea and death ceremonies
Trauma and inquiry work
Playing with rejection and desire
Devotion to people and the mystery
Embodied meditations and dance
Long-term sensory deprivation
Exploring archetypes and symbols
Play Party
Discovering fantasies and taboos
Theatre and contact improvisation
Deconstruction of personality
Consent and boundary practices
Ensemble and group collaboration
Role-playing and mask possession
Temple spaces and ceremonies
Please teach in my town!
Dear potential future organizer, here is a list of things to know before considering working with me. I spend roughly six months every year on tour, during which time I work with local organizers. I usually avoid working from the second week of January to the end of March, plus May, September and November—so April, June, July, August, October and December are good times to plan something. My plans tend to solidify themselves about six to nine months into the future.
First, I recommend picking one of the four abovementioned themes and the number of days. Three days are the most common; two days happen sometimes in big busy cities, like Amsterdam and New York, and four (or five) days in more relaxed countryside retreats. The content remains more or less the same; what changes are the intensity and surrounding activities. The typical teaching schedule could be Hello-day: 19-22, Full-day: 10-13, 15-18 and 19-21 and Goodbye-day: 10-13 and 14-17, but it depends if the event is a workshop or a retreat.
In a workshop, you, as the organizer, only organize the teaching structure and everything around that, while participants care for their food and accommodation, meaning we go in and out of the group process. This structure works well in bigger cities, like Berlin, where people might have other duties to care for, and it keeps the costs down for local participants. In a retreat, you take care of everything, so the participants can leave everyday life behind and live together for the entire event. It’s much more work to organize a retreat, and the price will be higher as it includes food and accommodation, but the experience tends to go deeper.
Some of my organizers work out of passion and don’t aim to make money themselves. Others are professionals, and organizing stuff is their primary source of income. I sometimes work in rich countries like Switzerland and the Scandinavians and sometimes in poorer countries, which affects the economy. My minimum charge is 2000 euros plus food, accommodation, and travel. Sometimes, I get paid twice that, and sometimes a little less. As for accommodation, I’m pretty easy; I enjoy staying with local people as long as I get my own room with a bed. For travel, I try to tour by train between cities and then split the travel costs between organizers. That means I’m less flexible in my schedule but more friendly to the planet. But also greatly appreciate it if you can host me a few days before and after the event.
Group sizes also depend on organizers; in poorer places, groups are generally bigger, while some wealthier clients pay me to teach them in private. The group dynamic significantly changes at around fourteen people; before that, it’s more intimate and impossible to ignore the ups and downs of others. So, I really recommend aiming above that limit unless you really want to have the family feeling. Max group sizes depend; with ropes, I would say 20-30; with other themes, maybe 50-60 or even 100 has happened, but then I deserve a lot more money. Group size also governs the choice of venue. In general, I need two square meters per participant. If we do the SURRENDER theme in the SKY variation, we also need the ceiling suspension points. Access to mattresses, pillows, and blankets at the venue is a huge benefit, as is having one too many toilets and some kind of amazing sound system.
As a nomad travelling worldwide, my network and reach vary significantly depending on where I tour. If I’m less known in your community, you will probably have to do more promotion work. You can expect me to add your event to my webpage, which has roughly 200 visitors per day, and include it in my newsletter, which reaches another 5000 people twice a month. I’ll also happily reshare any posts you make on social media. It might sound like a lot, but it doesn’t sell out events by itself. So you, as an organizer, need an existing community that trusts your decision to organize for me. In addition to promoting and finding the participants, I expect you to find the venue and handle the communication with them. You are also responsible for handling the economy of things, like selling tickets, buying stuff, and paying the venue rent. I’ll invoice you once after the workshop. Finally, I expect you to be first in line, answering questions from potential participants. Exactly how you deal with everything above, I very much leave to your creative freedom because, in my experience, it differs wildly in different countries and communities. And you’ll know yours better than I ever could.
Here are some biographies previously used to describe me; the longer, the medium and the Instagram version.
Born in Sweden but professionally nomadic, Andy Buru spent the past twenty-five years as an owned slave, a leather daddy, a hedonist, a purist, a magician, and a princess slut. As a young kinky boi, they spent the years of 2004 and 2005 roaming the backstreets of Kabukichō, Tokyo and learning the ropes from people like Yukinaga Max, the little/young Yukimura. Later, they discovered the Berlin-based community of Schwelle7 and Xplore, where art and sexuality intersect—and where they still teach today.
In 2017, Andy made a smooth departure from the ordinary world, ditching a career as an organisational coach at a large international tech company to dedicate their life to teaching, writing, and embodying sadomasochism as a lived research practice. Nowadays, they spend six months of the year travelling and teaching, and the other six months studying subjects such as tea, flowers, and theatre, often in the misty mountains of Kumano, Japan.
In 2024, Andy released their book Rituals and Paradoxes: The Intimacy of Belonging in Sadomasochism and Esoteric Eroticism. Currently, they are plotting their first novel, which aims to explore themes not easily captured through philosophy or poetry.
Born in Sweden but professionally nomadic, Andy Buru has spent 25 years as a leather daddy, a hedonist, a magician, a princess slut—and everything in between. From learning rope on the backstreets of Kabukichō, Tokyo, to teaching at Berlin’s Schwelle7 and Xplore, Andy moves where art and sexuality intersect.
In 2017, they left a tech career to become an embodied researcher of sadomasochism. Today, Andy splits time between teaching around the world and studying tea, flowers, and theatre in the misty mountains of Kumano, Japan.
Their 2024 book Rituals and Paradoxes explores intimacy, belonging, and esoteric eroticism. A novel is on the way.
Leather daddy. Princess slut. Magician. Researcher.
Andy Buru teaches where art meets kink—from Tokyo’s backstreets to Berlin’s Xplore.
They left tech in 2017 to live a life of sadomasochistic study, tea, and poetry.
📖 Rituals and Paradoxes out now.
🌀 Novel coming soon.
Finally, thank you for reading this wall of text; please don’t hesitate to contact me if you’d like to work together.