It’s a classic damsel-in-peril dynamite cliffhanger, and it’s not looking good for our damsel. Tick-tock!
Panels are from Law Breakers Suspense Stories #11 in 1953, via Damsel Preservation League.
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Back in May, Rain wrote about the Hard Tied porn shoot that needed a tractor:
My sex life requires a tractor and a crew of eight people, which isn’t always an easy thing to pull off, let me tell you.
…
When Insex asked me “Hey Rain, would you like to be hung upside down, crucified, a plastic bag with a breathing tube taped over your head, huge rocks tied off from your tits, a dildo tied into your pussy and be buried underground while you’re being vibrated?” the only appropriate answers to that question was “Fuck yes!!” And “Pretty please!”
I don’t think anyone on the crew realized how much work it would take to dig a deep enough hole in dry soil that you could actually fit a person into it. After a few good hours fucking around with shovels, we all had throbbing blisters, a sad three-inch depression in the ground and a newfound appreciation of the effort murderers must go through in order to properly hide a body.
In the end we threw in the towel and got out the tractor. The tractor did in 20 minutes what our entire crew couldn’t pull off in two hours-worth of sweaty effort. It was surreal watching the ground slowly be ripped open deep enough to accommodate my body and what my fate would soon be. Once the pit was big enough it was go time.
The whole stunt didn’t take too long to pull off. First the plastic bag with the breathing tube was taped securely around my neck and then I was hauled upside down by a pulley and hung by my ankles. Once I was hanging upside down a dildo taped to a stick was inserted into my pussy and tied in place. Large heavy stones were tied onto my breasts and left to dangle painfully. Then I was lowered back down into the pit…
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The unit hadn’t captured enough pretty fighters from the resistance lately to keep the whole barracks in sex slaves, and for the most part the men were just a little bit too “no homo” in their thinking to be entirely happily about fucking the same girl at the same time. Fortunately, with a little bit of creative carpentry, they figured out how to multiply the available fuck-orifices while maintaining a bit of privacy:
Art is from Agnes Beauvais, a Dofantasy comic with a WWII setting, by Cagri.
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There’s a Lou Kagan [correction: Brian Tarsis] comic out there somewhere that I have not seen in decades. In it, a woman is tied painfully up on her knees and she’s gagged with a door knob. This woman — from one of the old “amateur” Usenet newsgroups I believe — is in a more comfortable poster and is presumably free to remove her mouth from the doorknob, at least if her master allows it. I expect he’s having her practice to become that woman of whom it may be said: “She could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch!”
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It’s never a good start to your day, when you wake up unexpectedly naked in a cell:
From the Dofantasy comic Department Store, by Galvarino.
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Found in an amateur bondage folder from an old UseNet directory.
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Back in 2004 I wrote this as part of a post about relaxing into being openly kinky around even your vanilla friends:
When I first got to the big city as a young and clueless virgin, I knew that there were such as thing as bondage magazines because I had read (years before) a breathless story in Ms. Magazine (my mother’s subscription) by a woman who was shocked and horrified to find a copy of a “Cheerleaders in Bondage” magazine under her teen son’s bed. When I finally found myself in the sort of place (oh, paradise!) that had really comprehensive porn stores, I hunted down the store that could sell me some bondage magazines, but then I kept them in a locked portable filing cabinet under my bed. Eventually I had several locked filing cabinets — but I gave my friends not one hint. I lived in terror that someone might find out.
About that line “I hunted down the store that could sell me some bondage magazines”: that store was “The Magazine” in San Francisco. It’s a wonderful place in my memory — endless rows of boxes and stacks of every kind of porn magazine, including so many kinds my young self had never imagined. The store was, to be sure, full of furtive men, and the gay dudes who ran the place were gruff and sometimes a bit unfriendly at the cash register; but that’s probably because their magazines were expensive and my budget was small and I was always (at least in my imagination) riding the ragged edge of the amount of “browsing” one may fairly do before making the impossible choice of one magazine out of so many hundreds and thousands of delectable choices.
Anyway, those gruff gay dudes are getting older now, and according to this story they have a plan for what they’re going to do with their store once they pass on: it’s going to become an archive for the Bob Mizer Foundation, preserving the Bob Mizer photography that’s so famous from the era of the muscle magazines and “physical culture” gay crypto-porn. That’s awesome, but I was mostly just impressed to learn that the store still exists and thrives a quarter-century after I was patronizing it so reliably:
For the time being, The Magazine will continue to operate, but owners and life partners Robert Mainardi, 70, and Trent Dunphy, 79, have realized that they need to prepare for a time “when we are no longer here,” according to Mainardi. As we previously reported, Mainardi and Dunphy have operated The Magazine out of various Tenderloin locations for the past 40 years.
There’s no set timeline for the changeover, and for now, Mainardi and Dunphy will continue to sell their vast collection of vintage magazines to a steady stream of customers who wander in and out on the store.
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