Pissed Off Plow Pony
She lost a bet, and not gracefully!
Artist is SanePerson.
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She lost a bet, and not gracefully!
Artist is SanePerson.
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There’s a circulating social media clip that answers this eternal question: “Why are they called pigtails if pigs only have one tail?”
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Never let anybody try to convince you that the early material in the ancient archives at Kink Prime doesn’t include some fine bondage photography:
This bit of ruthless steel bondage exposure is, I think, from a Hogtied shoot, probably more than 20 years ago.
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“Let’s go for a walk,” he said. “It’s a bit muddy, but it will be fun,” he said. She should have asked one or two more questions, but in the fullest flush of new relationship energy, she just said “Sure!” and now she’s out in the back pasture, cold, wet, naked, leashed, muddy, and mad enough to spit snails. But he’s having a great time!
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It was always going to be a long day in the public-use pillory. The added humiliation of the nose hook and the body graffiti? I’d say it was the icing on the cake, but in fact her icing came from her enthusiastic visitors:
Artwork is by Fishneak.
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He plays this predicament bondage game with each new girlfriend. (Yeah, he goes through a lot of girlfriends.) He sets the clamps nice and tight. And then he just… lets her sit:
That’s the game — how long until she screws up her courage to pull out of the clamps, so she can get up off the chair?
Brave girls who see where this is going usually spend less than five minutes in the chair. But the ones who are already freaked out about the clamps? They can’t do it, not at first. They just watch while their nips turn purple, being careful never to tug because it hurts even more. Eventually, they realize they need to pee. At that point there’s usually desperate begging. He just laughs, and plays games on his phone while he waits. Most of the girls find the courage to yank their nipples free eventually…
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I’m not usually into humiliation in my own BDSM play, but one of the funniest and most real amateur porn scenes I ever saw was an extended humiliation bit with a bratty blonde sub who seemed very sure of her sexual charms. The quality of the recording wasn’t awesome — it was shot with a fixed camera on a tripod, and the angle wasn’t great — but the lighting was good and the audio was excellent. Trust me, the audio was the most important part!
So this girl was all over our dom as the scene started, oozing sex and draping herself on him as he was trying to get her undressed and tied up. He smacked her around a bit with a riding crop, just very lightly in that performative way that you often see in porn, but she was more into grabbing at his dick and cutting sexy poses than into doing what he was telling her. He wasn’t coming across as the sort of scary dom who really commands respect, you know? Or so it seemed at first. He just played along, did a sort of service-top thing, let her vamp. Finally, though, he got her on her back on his play table, hands tied well out of the way, legs tied well up over her head, pussy sticking up and out. Her cunt was one of those fat puffy ones, shaved and oiled and juicy, and she was kinda waving it around and thrusting it at him, like she wanted to skip right to the bondage sex part of the program.
I’m a sadist and you could tell she wasn’t really into the pain side of the game. So, for me (and I think for her dom) her “please me” attitude had already gotten old. I was hoping he’d pull out a cane or a serious whip and really lay into her pussy, make her scream for awhile and re-evaluate her attitude. But oh no, that was totally Not His Way.
Instead he pulled out a big vibrator and started buzzing her pretty hard. In no time she was begging him “Fuck me, fuck me” and acting like she was going to cum, but he was not there for her. I think he was going for an edge scene, so to deny her an instant orgasm he put a little toothed clamp on her clit, and then went back to buzzing her pussy. She obviously hated the clamp but that big powerful vibrator won out, and it wasn’t long before she was begging him again, arching her back and screaming and throwing herself all over against her restraints.
He pressed on — he had her tied pretty well — and let her thrash for quite awhile, until her begging got pretty breathless. Then he finally put down the vibrator and turned it off. You could see the relief on her face, as she was staring hungrily at his dick.
Then without saying a word he took out one of these. He walked up right beside her face where she can have a nice close view, jammed his dick into it, and started to fuck it.
That’s right, boys, he left her whimpering with a clamp on her clit and fucked a Fleshlight instead. Right by her face.
She cycled through half a dozen different whines and complaints before it finally occurred to her to ask him “…but baby, why?”
And damn me if he didn’t tell her! The Fleshlight, he told her, was firmer, tighter, cleaner, and smelled better than her pussy. The Fleshlight, he said, had never had any other dicks in it but his. The Fleshlight never would have another dick in it but his. The Fleshlight was pretter than her pussy. The Fleshlight was cheaper. The Fleshlight was smarter. On and on and on. He never stopped talking, he never stopped pounding into that Fleshlight, and he never stopped telling her how she was worth less in every way than the sex toy that he was pounding into six inches in front of her eyes. As she heard all this her face just fell and fell and fell. By the time he came, she was in tears. Her whole “I am an irresistible sex-bunny” schtick was utterly destroyed. After he was done, he showed her the Fleshlight with his stuff oozing out, and he asked her if she still wanted to beg him for anything. She thought about it, started to say “no”, and then you could see her realize that might be a mistake. Instead she said, very low and quiet, “Yes, Master. May I please lick you out of your toy?”
He said she could. While she was doing it, he turned off the camera.
I think we can safely assume that when she got out of bed this morning, she didn’t expect her day to go quite this way:
Via Assylum.
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This Hungarian nightclub doesn’t allow slave girls inside; it draws attention away from their erotic dancers. But there’s ample room to chain them along the street:
The club’s doormen are under strict instructions to keep an eye on the girls, but they let passers-by take quite a few liberties as long as nobody’s getting injured.
Photo via Kinky Delight. Explanation: entirely manufactured.
Update: Commenter Cardy identified this by eye as likely being from Public Disgrace, and I was able to confirm.
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Sent to a women’s prison by a vengeful and powerful politician, our heroines get in trouble for slacking off on the hard labor, and are punished with a little extra humiliation:
Continuing the motions of hoeing, Gail frankly watched Emma grasped Grace’s hair and pulled forward and down. “Bend well over, honey,” she invited.
The unfortunate girl had no choice but to obey. A moment later her head was between Emma’s ample thighs, her neck held as in a vice. Her bottom was reared, her legs were rudely kicked as wide apart as their chain would allow. Gail began to guess what was in store.
But she had underestimated the resources of the Prison Farm. From the bag, a gleefully grinning Thelma produced a huge tuft of what appeared to be ostrich feathers spouting from a sizeable rubber prong. She also produced vaseline.
Grace struggled and protested. But to no avail. She was held. The operation that would degrade and render her ludicrous before her fellow prisoners went competently forward. Admittedly, it was done with reasonable care. The ugly protrusion entered its warm sheath under skilful guidance and practiced hands. But to a girl who had never been spread it would be agony. Its frontal knob would ensure the sphincter muscle’s firm retaining grip upon the mockery of a bird’s plumed tail. But it would be bitterly painful to the girl within whose rectum it found refuge. The beastly work was concluded when Grace’s handcuffs were removed so that the sack could be discarded to leave her nude, and then locked back on her wrists with an extra tight grip. Scarlet faced, she stood in her plumed nakedness, uncertain what to do.
“Reach round and pull it out if you don’t like it, sugar,” Thelma suggested cheerfully.
For a moment Grace stood, undecided, off balance, not knowing. Then, following a natural instinct, she did the wrong thing. She reached back to tug the intruding alien thing from her body.
The laughter was not limited to the merriment of the wardresses. Most of the captive girls found it hard to keep a straight face. Even the agonized Gail could appreciate the comic absurdity of what she beheld. No matter how she tried, Grace could not reach the thing she sought. The handcuffs tight upon her wrists defeated her. She could touch a fingertip to a feather. But could grip nothing with sufficient force to achieve her purpose. With or without permission, she would have no choice but to wear her badge of shame.
Blushing vividly she picked up her hoe. Tears of chagrin bedewed her eyes…
Excerpted from Strange Captivity by F.E. Campbell.
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This tie is restrictive and humiliating at best. Add in a woman with a whip to make her hobble endlessly away in a fruitless effort to escape the lash, and it becomes exquisitely so!
That’s Tegan Mohr in the duckwalk tie at Hard Tied.
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More Friday bondage links for ya:
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The first Friday bondage links of 2013:
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Two girls on a road trip. It went something like this:
Melody Jordan: “I need to pee. And, we’re lost.”
Princess Donna: “Let’s look at this map. No, fuck it. We’re lost all right. Why don’t you duck into this handy biker bar, do your business, and ask for directions?”
Melody: “Sure! What could possibly go wrong?”
Princess Donna (to herself, as she drives away): “She always was prettier than she was smart. Next time, maybe she won’t cheat on me…”
From Bound Gangbangs. Full shoot is here.
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The Red-Headed Slut gives a present:
I have left a present for my boyfriend on my floor: a duct-taped girl with her panties pulled down, mascara smeared on her cheeks, and an array of sex toys and hurty things on the coffee table.
Of course, the girl is me. (In case you’re wondering, it is both easier and harder than you think to duct tape yourself like a victim.) Seven and I do a lot of consensual non-consent, specifically abuse/violence/rape play. I really wanted this particular scene to go further than we had n the past. I wanted to be used, violated, owned. In my head, I was a kidnap victim who is bound and gagged in a warehouse. I’d been told if I cooperated, they’d let me go once he was done with me. And he would be able to do anything he wanted. Anything.
The scene itself was inspired; Seven always seems to know what’s going to work. There was forced porn viewing, assplay, pain, and humiliation. He jerked me around with his belt around my neck. He would alternate rewards with punishments. At one point I had to pee, and I almost believed he wouldn’t let me, or would make me use a bucket. (Side note: getting up to go to the bathroom with your hands and ankles still duct taped together is an exercise on flexibility and confidence-building.)
Suction cups on the picture window … fun!
From FML:
Today, my boyfriend handcuffed me to the bed, naked. Someone pulled the fire alarm, and my boyfriend couldn’t find the key. So he left me, and the Resident Advisor found me. The fireman had to cut the chain. FML
MOAR bondage links!
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The Kinky Librarian went to dinner:
At some point during dinner, MasterDoc ran off to get a lubed-up butt plug, brought it back to the table, and stuffed it up Nadia’s ass. Nadia, red-faced but clearly enjoying herself, remarked that this was just like Kink.com’s The Upper Floor – a civilized dinner party at which no one bats an eye when some sub girl bends over to take a butt plug up her ass. Truly, I expect no less at MasterDoc’s Home for Wayward Women. Nadia sat back down, and MasterDoc instructed her to wiggle about, to make sure she was getting the full effect of that butt plug. She obeyed, in obvious embarrassment, which I found adorable. I pointed out to her that her ears were turning red, and she wailed, “You saying that makes it worse!” Mwahahahahahaha! I’m a bad friend.
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It’s time to turn on the cold water, I think.
Unless, maybe, you have some business to take care of first…
Picture is from this MILF Humiliation gallery.
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This is from a judicial punishment story called Leslie’s Return To the Courtroom:
I made a last minute inspection. She was secured to the spanking bench, legs spread wide, pussy which is becoming noticeably moist was on full open display, her asshole winking at the audience with a sheen of perspiration on the insides of her cheeks.
“I see she’s enjoying this about as much as the last time,” said the clerk in a snotty tone. The steno chuckled and explained what occurred last time to the young intern. He blushed as he chortled at the obviously graphic description being given to him by the young lady.
…
The young court clerk walked up to me and handed me a foil packet.
“Here’s the ‘fig’ you asked me to bring. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t forget this for anything!” she told me proudly. I smiled and thanked her for being so thoughtful, sarcastically remarking that I knew Leslie appreciated it as well.
I squatted down before her spread genitals and parted her ample asscheeks, exposing her clenched anus even further. I slid the tip of the ginger suppository up to touch her asshole, which made her clench it even more. As soon as the initial “wink reflex” subsided, I slipped the tip inside her puckered hole, almost all the way in. As she clenched her asscheeks together, I released the pressure on the fig and allowed it to slide back out. This caused a pleasurable sensation for her, I know, so I did it a few more times…in and out…to have a little fun myself and to cause her further humiliation by exhibiting pleasure under these circumstances.
Finally, I thrust the fig all the way up into her rectum, my finger buried to the hilt. I held it there for a few seconds, enjoying the warmth of her insides as I felt her squeezing madly on my finger. Finally, I withdrew my finger and nodded to the judge…
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There’s a genre of bondage activity I think of as “face bondage” that seems to focus on distorting a woman’s facial features. The exact nature of the fetish excitement is unclear to me, but I expect pain and humiliation and degradation factor into it, as well as taking away the ability to control what goes into tender orifices. This Japanese example is a fairly thorough and very representative sample of the genre:
Found here.
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I don’t post humiliation photos every day, because they aren’t really my thing. And there’s that whole “…pleasure in the beauty…” motto to think of. But, from time to time, I’ll make an exception, especially when there’s some good animal cosplay going on. So, meet Pig Girl, who badly needs a bath I don’t think she’s going to be getting as soon as she’d like:
From the Pain Files.
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Faceplant? Splat!
Poor Trina Michaels — her master wanted to treat her as a pig, so it was a definite case of “out of the cage, into the hog wallow” for her:
From Infernal Restraints.
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Spanking Blog writes:
Use the martinet, stow the martinet, tell the girl you’re going for a beer and will be back in a few minutes after her welts have had time to rise. “Don’t go anywhere, and don’t you dare drop the whip!”
According to Spanking Blog (and the visible signature) the artist is Waldo. I believe this may be his blog here.
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Some patients just won’t hold still for a painful injection. But a good doctor knows what to do:
I believe this cartoon is by Leone Frollo. Any Italian speakers want to offer a good translation of the speech bubble?
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Here’s Christine, talking about the fun she had taking pink fuzzy handcuffs through security on her way home from Amsterdam:
But then I saw it – the perfect souvenir! A pair of pink, fuzzy handcuffs!
They were so cute! So Barbie-doll pink! So soft and fuzzy! I had to have them. I slapped a few Guilders down on the sticky counter and giggled like a silly schoolgirl.
Now, remember I said that I pack light, right? I hate checking luggage – it’s time consuming, and my bags always end up in Oklahoma or some remote destination. Well, even though I was in graduate school, I am not always the brightest bulb in the room. I put those pink fuzzy handcuffs in my backpack with my clothes and yes, I went through security with them, intending to bring the bag with me on the plane.
Naturally, the hottest Dutch man was working the security point that day. He put my bag through, smirked, and then ran my back through the X-ray machine again. He called over another security-buddy of his, who just happened to be the second-hottest Dutch man I’ve ever seen. He looked at the screen, and then looked at me. Looked at the screen. Back at me. He started laughing.
I thought I was going to die from humiliation.
They called over not one, not two, but three more security officials – all men. All hot. They couldn’t contain their laughter. I think one guy started crying from the laughter. I wanted to crawl into my backpack and die.
Eventually they opened my bag and pulled out the pink fuzzy handcuffs. All the people held up in line behind me started tittering
It gets better…eventually they let her on to the airplane with them, and she winds up threatening a major celebrity with them. Or so she says.
Folks, as you might imagine these Friday link cornucopias take quite a bit of time to put together, but they’re fun to do. Let me know what you think … what parts do you like better, what parts worse, what would you like to see more of?
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The Dofantasy.com graphic novels explore a lot of unwilling slavegirl scenarios. It’s no surprise, really; every man in the world is surrounded by desirable, unattainable women. Fantasies in which they are attained, roughly and in every orifice, are something I suspect most Bondage Blog readers have enjoyed from time to time. And what better way to explore fantasies like that than in the medium of the adult graphic novel, which allows a degree of roughness, severity, and aggressive sexual excess that’s unattainable in the real world and expensive to simulate in a photographic studio?
The latest example to catch my eye is the comic Confiscated Twins Owned as drawn by Fernando.
The story (which doesn’t matter very much) includes a couple of girls-next-door who find themselves in the legally-sanctioned sexual captivity of a rather cruel young men. It happened like this:
Some weeks have passed since the lucky day when ‘Wanker’ Roy bought the Bauer twins he had been lusting after for so long. He had them delivered to him naked, blindfolded, gagged and chained. Their hot bodies were adorned with fancy red ribbons…
The twins are former neighbors and classmates, the same snooty superior girls who had spurned him for months, putting him down, scornfully rejecting his timid advances, and publicly ridiculing him at ever turn.
Now the twins are Roy’s property and it is their turn to suffer, in a nightmare of retaliation and humiliation…
Rough bondage sex, and lots of it, ensues:
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Although I’ve heard of the famous movie Belle De Jour, starring a young Catherine Deneuve as a bored housewife turned hooker-for-a-day, I had no idea until I saw this picture that there was any bondage in it. And I certainly had no idea it featured a humiliation scene in which she is tied up and sploshed with muck! (Supposedly, horse manure.) Yet, here she is:
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When I first read the following as a young lad, it made a powerful impression on me. Most of the girls in my life were at least as verbally abusive as the lovely Aphris of Turia, and despite the obvious flaws in the plan, I was pretty impressed with the fantasy of stuffing them in a leather sack until their attitude improved:
“Do you not recall,” asked Kamchak, “the banquet of Saphrar?”
“Of course.” she said, warily.
“Do you not recall,” asked Kamchak, “the affair of the tiny bottles of perfume and the smell of bosk dung — how nobly you attempted to rid the banquet hall of that most unpleasant and distasteful odor?”
“Yes,” said the girl, very slowly.
“Do you not recall,” asked Kamchak, “What I then said to you — what I said at that time?”
“No!” cried the girl leaping up, but Kamchak had jumped toward her, scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder. She squirmed and struggled on his shoulder, kicking and pounding on his back. “Sleen!” she cried. “Sleen! Sleen! Sleen!”
I followed Kamchak down the steps of the wagon and, blinking and still sensible of the effects of the Paga, gravely held open the large dung sack near the rear left wheel of the wagon.
“No, Master!” the girl wept. “You call no man Master,” Kamchak was reminding her. And then I saw the lovely Aphris of Turia pitched head first into the large, leather sack, screaming and sputtering, thrashing about.
“Master!” she cried. “Master! Master!” Sleepily I could see the sides of the sack bulging out wildly here and there as she squirmed about. Kamchak then tied shut the end of the leather sack and wearily stood up. “I am tired,” he said. ” I have had a difficult and exhausting day.” I followed him into the wagon where, in a short time, we had both fallen asleep.
— from “Nomads of Gor” by John Norman
This excerpt was discovered deep in the bowels of the ErosBlog archives.
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