Bondage Blog

It’s like a slumber party, only the girls wear bikinis and have a Saint Andrew’s bondage cross:

Via Kinky Delight.

Elsewhere on Bondage Blog:

• Enthusiastic Bondage Tickling
• Vintage Bondage Foot Tickling
• Foot Secured For Tickling
• Toe Torment At Topgrl
• Oriental Tickling Inquisition

Automotive abduction just ain’t what it used to be; they don’t make big sedans with cavernous trunks and heavy steel trunk lids the way they used to. The kidnapper on a budget has to make do with a hatchback, these days:

Fortunately, bondage gear is better and easier to find all the time. And a good leather sensory deprivation hood makes up for many of the deficiencies of hatchback captivity:

Photos are from Infernal Restraints.

Elsewhere on Bondage Blog:

• Bunny Hoods
• Spandex Blowjob Hood
• Bound By The Transporter
• Arrested Girl, Plus A Stunning Car
• The Girl In The Trunk Of The Car

This chain-and-harness arrangement seems well-designed to keep your sex-captive conveniently near your bedroll at all times:

Artwork is from a vintage Japanese magazine, found via Spanking Blog.

Elsewhere on Bondage Blog:

• Crucified Pussy
• Rural Bondage Punishment
• Vintage Japanese Bondage
• Chained Anime Girl, Whipped
• Chained Japanese Girls

Our tied up tigress (in leopard print?) is Linda Sterling, from what appears to be a promotional chair bondage photo from the 1944 12-chapter serial movie The Tiger Woman.

Elsewhere on Bondage Blog:

• Hunting With The Best Bait
• Leopard-Girl On A Leash
• The Girl In The Tiger Cage
• Sold In The Slave Market
• The Pagan Urge To Bind And Feed
• Bondage Blonde Leopard Bait

If he can’t handle a little begging-him-on-her-knees, he’s useless to her:

From the cover of a Young Romance comic.

Elsewhere on Bondage Blog:

• Ashley Lane On Her Knees
• Tavern-Slave Bondage Blowjob
• Bedroom Pillory
• Begging At The Wire
• Desperate Girl, Begging For A Key

I’m not sure if the wires and vintage dry-cell batteries are supposed to induce pain, power a mind-control device, or summarily shorten our poor bound girl’s life, but whichever way it goes, that electrified metal band on her brow is going to make her skull a hotter place to be than she’d like:

The art is from an interior illustration for the story Bodies Born For Slaughter in the September 1940 issue of Terror Tales.

Elsewhere on Bondage Blog:

• Put Her In "The Chair"
• The Cult Of The Branded Eye
• Vintage Chair Bondages
• Vintage Chair Bondage
• Bondage In The Chair

It’s a long painful afternoon, but everything still works afterwards despite what she thinks:

At noon I was allowed a plate of cold biscuits and a pail of water. then I was placed upon a fence rail and left there to ride the rail until supper. The rail was rough hewn wood, with sharp ridges. It wasn’t too wide but enough to take my weight. A portion in the center had been sanded down until it was smooth and free of splinters but still had a ridge along the top. My arms were still bound behind my back, elbows touching, naturally, when Juan and Mendosa lifted me then set me down over that rail. The ridge I mention was squarely centered on my crotch and dug in as soon as some of my weight came to rest on it. I tried to tell them that it hurt terribly and that I would be injured if I had to sit there. They found my protests amusing.

My legs were tied to the rails below the one I was sitting on. But the fence was tall enough so that I could not touch the ground with my toes. The last part of the bondage was a short length of rope Mendosa looped around my neck then passed down my back to my wrists. The rope circled that already around my wrists then was pulled back up towards my neck. My hands had to come up on my back and my elbows stuck out. When he tied the knot, my hands were in the small of my back and I had to strain a bit to keep them up there. They laughed about something as they left me.

It hurt. That’s the first thing you have to understand. The wooden ridge dug into my flesh and there was no way I could ease any of my weight off it. And I quickly found out that the best thing I could do was sit straight up and not move. The top of my body could bend forward, backward a bit, and even to the side. But that motion only put sideways stressed upon my crotch and made the wood hurt more.

As time passed, the pain changed and grew. It became more of an ache than a sharp pain. It gnawed at me, an insistent ache that I could do nothing about. I tried to get my hands free, but that did nothing save pull on the rope attached to my neck. And that became worse as the hours passed because if I let my arms relax, the hands tried to lower and that tightened the rope around my neck. It was horrible.

When Juan came back that evening, I was crying softly and was a very pathetic girl. As he untied me from that torture, I tried to tell him that my sex had been ruined and would never work again, an idea that saddened me greatly. To have just discovered sex and then be denied it for the rest of your life is not a pleasant thought. But he laughed at my stammerings, telling me that other girls had ridden the rail and their sex still worked — he knew that for a fact.

From Valley Of The Captive Maidens by F.E. Campbell.

Elsewhere on Bondage Blog:

• Fence Rail Rider Wearing A Blowjob Hood
• Tied In Her Own Basement
• Handcuffed In A Slaver Van
• Bondage Whipping For A Flirt
• Bondage Whipping Over A Fence Rail