There’s a whole universe of Slave Leia fan art out there, but a lot of it falls short in the department of showing us what exactly the repulsive old slug can do with a sex slave. This artwork by Faustie is an exception:
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With her neck cabled to the overhead like that, there’s only so much room for Ashley Lane to try and dance away from the cattle prod. But you can bet she’s dancing as fast as she can!
From the recent Locked update at Infernal Restraints.
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The god of the sea needs his pretty sacrifices:
From, of all things, an advertisement for water softening equipment that appeared in the December 14, 1935 issue of Time magazine.
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Either she’s an excellent actress, or this bondage sex scene just got a little more intense than she was ready for, when his hand wrapped around her throat:
From Homewrecker, a Sex And Submission shoot.
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Long car trips are always more fun with a captured super-heroine on her knees on the floorboards. In this case it’s Betty Gage as “Invincible Knight”, but she’s fallen afoul of a dastardly (and kinky) villain and isn’t doing so super just now:
Part of a page of Eric Stanton’s Blunder Broad 39.
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Ahh, oopsie?
Instead of being in my spot on the floor, I was reading in bed last night. I suppose I thought Master would be downstairs for a long time, and I’d have plenty of time to get ready.
But he wasn’t, and I didn’t.
I was startled when he came in, and started immediately feeling half guilty and half rebellious (what’s up with that??). I slunk down off the bed as he glared at me, and he asked me what I was doing. I went to kneel on the floor but it was obviously too late for that. I still felt like I should do it, rather than just lie insolently in bed. He asked me if this was some sort of slave rebellion. I wasn’t sure, but when I didn’t answer he took that as a yes.
For punishment I had to lie on my back, he cranked my legs up high and hit me with the long wavy paddle right on the backs of my legs where it it most painful. There were three sets of 10 each, except for once I was two wiggly after only four (it hurt a lot!) and he started over. In the middle of it, he asked me if I’d been punished enough.
“Whatever you think, Master,” I answered. It’s not up to me at all, of course.
“Good answer”, he said. And kept going.
From A Slave To Master.
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The carnivals I go to are never like this:
Art is The Midway, by Sparrow.
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