Responsibility in Rope: The Duty We Hold in Shibari at the Extremes
Shibari shifts sometimes seamlessly between multiple worlds:
Art, movement-based practices, sensuality, sexuality, and martial arts.
Because it draws from each of these disciplines, it inherits not only their beauty but their duty.
Shibari can be expressive.
It can be connective.
It can be aesthetic, sensual, athletic, meditative, and transformative.
It is easily definable continuous growth.
In truth, rope exists somewhere at the intersection of all of these disciplines.
And because of that, it carries an extraordinary level of responsibility; one that belongs not only to riggers, not only to bottoms, but to everyone who enters into this practice or our space.
As with any paired activity that involves risk whether in martial arts, acrobatics, partnered dance, aerials or rope...
We share a duty
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To respect boundaries.
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To understand our limits.
- And to try & never operate beyond the skills we actually possess.
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To understand our limits.
This is the foundation of safe(r), sustainable rope.
What does this mean for rope as an Extreme Activity
It needs to be said plainly:
Shibari CAN, and often is extreme edgeplay; even if you do not recognise it as such.
We work directly with:
- the nervous system,circulation,
- joint structures,
- altered states of consciousness,
- power dynamics, and
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emotional vulnerability.
We cannot remove the risk, but we can immensely mitigate it; with knowledge, communication, and discipline but just as easily we can go beyond the boundaries of our understanding.
This is why the fundamentals and Tensions structured class curriculum exists the way it does. Not as a hurdle to “get past,” but as long-term foundations to build upon.
Just as martial arts start with stances and movement drills (lvl1), before sparring (lvl2+), rope begins with structural integrity, anatomy awareness, tension control, and informed consent.
Skipping ahead when we are not ready is not progression; it’s negligence.
In other paired disciplines
- You shouldn't throw someone into a choke without both partners understanding what it means.
- You shouldn't apply pressure without control.
- You shouldn't “see what happens” with a technique you don’t understand.
Rope deserves the same respect.
The muddy origins
It’s funny, in a way, how the mythologized history of shibari and hojojutsu gets repeated in the media as if it were a single clean lineage from samurai battlefield techniques to modern rope. Anyone who has actually studied some of the history will know that neat story they love to tell is technically false. Shibari’s documented origins are far more erotic than martial, and we need to acknowledge that honestly; rope grew from sexuality, from desire, from intimate human play. Kabuki theater, Western bondage imagery, and the classic damsel-in-distress aesthetic are the far more likely contributors than any codified warrior tradition.
And yet, here is the part that genuinely makes me laugh: when you truly follow the dō of rope, its discipline, its introspection, its movement, its partnered responsibility, you inevitably arrive at the values of budō (武道). The path itself circles you back there. The spirit of training, respect, presence, and the pursuit of mastery emerges naturally from practice, even if that was never part of its original development.
That dichotomy, rope born from sex rather than budō, yet evolving into a discipline that now requires the same integrity and honor as martial arts, is both ironic and profoundly beautiful. And in my view, it is exactly where our attention should be: on living the practice fully, with respect, accountability, and the dignity of a true dō. Or at the very least, with the same level of responsibility and partner-care expected in budō. Because in shibari, we have no enemies. We only have the partners we care, and are responsible for.
Shared Duty: A Two(Even three)-Person Practice
Rope is not a solo activity.
Even when self-tying, you are in a dialogue with the material and the limits of your own body, you should definitely in the extreme have a spotter and therefore again responsibility becomes shared.
Yes, when working with a partner, responsibility becomes shared:
The person tying has a duty to work within their level, understand the risks, listen, and adapt // The person being tied has a duty to communicate honestly, report sensations accurately, and know their own boundaries.
Neither role is passive.
Neither role is disposable.
Both require awareness, education, and ongoing consent.
BUT there is the caveat.
How does one set Boundaries when they are not educated to do so?
“You do not know what you do not know”
Therefore the one with more education is often "more" responsible.
Boundaries are not obstacles; they’re anchors that serve several critical functions:
- They prevent accidental harm.
- They define the scope of the scene.
- They keep power dynamics transparent.
- They build trust and long-term sustainability.
We are the custodians of each other’s safety.
At Tension, our goal is to foster an environment where responsibility is understood, practiced, and valued:
- where fundamentals are respected,
- where consent is ongoing and enthusiastic,
- where communication is normalized,
- where power dynamics are acknowledged,
- where mistakes are addressed with accountability,
- where people learn slowly, methodically, and safely,
- where community members look out for each other.
This is not about perfection.
It’s about integrity.
The health of a rope community depends on how seriously we take the weight of what we do; and how consistently we hold ourselves and each other to those standards.
Shared responsibility sounds simple, but in practice it becomes complicated; especially when boundaries are mistaken for gatekeeping. This brings us to a reality that every rope community eventually faces…
Why Gatekeeping Happens And When It’s Actually a Boundary
There is a difficult truth in rope that people don’t always want to hear:
sometimes what feels like gatekeeping is actually someone recognizing that a skill gap exists.
Again just like martial arts, aerials, climbing, or any partnered discipline; your partner’s safety is inseparable from your capacities. When a partner, teacher, or experienced practitioner says “not yet” it is not necessarily a personal attack, it is not a judgment of worth, and it is certainly not about withholding experiences.
It is a boundary.
A responsible one.
Ego complicates this.
We want to believe we are ready.
We want to do the cool thing.
We want to be trusted.
And when someone draws a line, it becomes, far too easy, to blame them instead of examining our actual preparedness.
But boundaries in rope are rarely about exclusion.
They are about risk assessment, skill recognition, and mutual consent.
A partner may decline because:
- they do not feel safe with the level of control demonstrated
- communication hasn’t been established yet
- the rigger hasn’t shown "consistency"
- the emotional trust isn’t developed enough
- the technique requested exceeds what either partner or teacher can handle responsibly
- they simply don’t want or do that type of scene
And all of these are valid.
Everyone’s consent must be respected, even when it clashes with our expectations.
Rope is a paired art; if one person involved doesn’t feel comfortable, the activity simply should not proceed. That is not gatekeeping; it is integrity. It is the same principle in martial arts where you don’t spar full-contact with someone who hasn’t mastered basic control, not because they’re “not allowed,” but because you don’t want them or yourself getting hurt.
Skill is not a moral hierarchy.
Boundaries are not punishment.
Consent is not optional because one person “feels ready.”
When we honor each other’s limits whether they are skill-based or emotional; we strengthen the community. As we age our boundaries may increase, when we are young the longer we have to live with consequences of those that are crossed; when we ignore them, we create conditions for harm.
The goal is not to push past barriers recklessly; the goal is to progress as safely, collaboratively, and at a pace that respects everyone involved.
Boundaries aren’t walls.
They’re guideposts; marking where we stand today, and pointing toward where we can grow tomorrow.
A Path Worth Walking, Together
Rope is beautiful, powerful, expressive, and transformative.
But it is also demanding.
It asks something of everyone involved; Including your teachers & space owners - Even if they are not your teachers.
By approaching it with respect, clarity, and responsibility, we ensure that the people who practice it can continue to do so in a safe(r) manner, for years to come.
Responsibility is not a burden;
it is the framework that makes growth possible.
Let’s continue to build a culture where practice matters;
Lose Tension and everything starts to fall apart...
Consent, communication, and accountability are not optional they are expected.
Willcat =^-^=
Tension Montreal
photo credit - Caleb_2025-10_Cirque-Du-Diable-Halloween
