Bondage Blog

She’s lashed to the dungeon wheel of torment, and it looks like she’s about to lose her panties:

From the cover of a De Sade magazine.

Elsewhere on Bondage Blog:

• Prisoners Of the Marquis
• Bad-Rapping The Marquis De Sade
• Bondage Pussy Eating
• Inquisition Bondage

Violet Monroe looks so calm, resting there shackled to that BJ bench. Not a care in the world, nowhere to go, nothing to do except suck on whatever cocks may come along:

Pictures are from a recent bondage-and-rough-sex liveshow at Real Time Bondage.

Elsewhere on Bondage Blog:

• Making London Cry
• Eat The Swill
• Bella Happily Bound
• Gagging Violet Monroe
• A Simple Tie For Blowjob Delivery
• Benched And Spanked
• Chaining Penny Pax

I really like this sort of bondage cosplay. I wonder what sort of ruffian this vintage fellow is supposed to be dressed as?

Elsewhere on Bondage Blog:

• A Vigorous Bondage Flogging
• Old Fashioned Iron Handcuffs
• The Bondage Flogging

Holly Hendricks woke up hard. Groggy. Feeling like something died in her mouth. Utterly disoriented. “Where am I?” She tried to move. Something rattled. “Whuh?” Just as it dawns on her that she’s chained on a smelly mattress, in a basement, she hears the noise of a metal door closing. Then, footsteps on a metal stairway. Getting lower, getting closer:

These scenes are from the beginning of The Debt Collector, the latest from Sex And Submission (now part of the Kink Unlimited offering).

Elsewhere on Bondage Blog:

• Fetching Her From The Bitch Closet
• A Well-Equipped Dungeon
• Anal Hostage
• Basement Suspension
• Basement Cages
• From Behind On A Mattress In A Basement

Hipponax was a Greek poet who lived 500 years before the Christian era. You think the Marquis de Sade had a dirty mind? Well you’re right, but Hipponax was right up there with him. Supposedly he was so offensive he got thrown out of Ephesos and wound up begging for a living in the city of Klazomenai. Here’s his The Miseries of Poetry, as translated from the Greek by Alexandra Papaditsas and Kent Johnson:

In Lydian tone she said, “Come hither, I will plug up
your tight asshole.” And she beat my egg sack with a sprig
of lilac as if I were a satyr. I fell backwards, breathing
heavy, and caught there by writhing vines I suffered
torture times two, and then some: A dried rose stem
lashed my man-tits; someone smeared me with cow’s
shit, and then my ass started stinking like Hades.
Dung beetles came, sucked there by the fetid
gook, like roan-filled flies. Bugs with their alphabet-eating
sounds: They covered me and shoved inward, burrowed
deep, filing their teeth without pity on my bones.

I hurt so bad, I might as well have had the Pygelian plague.

It might have been a fun date, right up until that bitch Poetry brought out the dung and the beetles…

Elsewhere on Bondage Blog:

• Torture Is Better Than Poetry
• Femdom, What It Feels Like
• Make Me A Captive

It’s always a great feeling of relief when she survives yet another knife-throwing competition:

Art is by kappaman.

Elsewhere on Bondage Blog:

• The Knife-Thrower's Target
• Strapped To The Target
• Bondage In The Lad Mags
• Bondage Magicians

Visiting prisoners was a less-regulated process, back in the old days:

Found here.

Elsewhere on Bondage Blog:

• A Visit To The Women's Prison
• Waiting To Be Ransomed
• When Is This Dungeon Tour Over?