Friday Bondage Links Cornucopia #72

This Thanksgiving I was grateful for many things, including several of these bondage links:

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The Labors Of A Slave

I believe I’ve mentioned before my surprise that BDSM versions of slavery so rarely incorporate any elements of actual labor. But, sometimes they do:

I am beat. And by that i mean tired; not beaten with something. And aching. And by that i mean like you would after your first day of Army boot camp. Yesterday, as i sat on the floor at my Owner’s feet as he ate his breakfast (and i ate mine from his hand as it was offered, like the animal that i am), i was told it was “labor day”. i said that i thought labor day was at the end of summer and he said “labor day” for me had a different meaning and that it was a day of physical labor for me.

…

We drove out west a bit in the state to my Owner’s cousin’s farm. It’s an old farm (early 19th century) that he is fixing up as a “get-away” for the family and everyone gets to use it as long as they work on the place while there. The place is a bit of a disaster and there is a LOT of manual labor to do there . My Owner had me put some tools and wood in a cart hooked to a tractor and then we drove off a bit from the house and out buildings. Well Sir drove and i scurried along, naked except for my sneakers, a coating of sunblock, and a hat to keep the sun off my head and face (the hat was a ball cap with “bitch” embroidered on it), trying not to lose sight of him.

i was then taught to build a fence. i had to dig holes with a post hole digger. Then insert fence posts and then fill the hole with dirt and tamp it down. After i set a few fence posts then it was back to the barn to get rails to install between the posts. And then repeat the process. All day long until i was a sweating aching exhausted pig.

And then he bent me over the section of fence that i had just finished and fucked me hard. He started in my cunt but then finished in my ass. i barely survived the walk back to the barn. He cuffed my hands and then chained one ankle to some old piece of farm equipment i couldn’t identify. It was filthy in the barn and there were spiders. Lots of spiders…

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Hooded And Nose Hooked

From this kinky Japanese photoset, we get fun with leather hoods and nose hooks:

japanese girl in a leather hood

You don’t usually see four hooks in the same nose:

nose hooked japanese girl

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Gagged By Her Captor

This is a grim scene! A frightened girl has been captured and gagged by a menacing, wounded, bloody Japanese soldier:

woman captured and gagged by a bloody Japanese soldier

It’s from the cover of The Savage Warriors by John Slater, and the illustrator is Col Cameron.

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Rawhide For Bondage

When I was young, there were a lot of “dirty westerns” floating around. They were pulpy western novels with lurid covers and a lot of sex inside. Cowboys and Indians catching and raping each other were not uncommon, and the favorite bondage method was inevitably described as strips of rawhide that would shrink and tighten the bonds as they dried in the hot desert sun. Sometimes four stakes for spread-eagled hands and feet would be involved; sometimes there would be an ant hill or a hot campfire between the legs. Did I mention the rapings? Fine litrachoor, this was not.

True rawhide is the untanned skin of dead animals. When you dry a fresh hide, it does indeed shrink mightily; for this reason a fresh animal skin intended for tanning or further use is typically dried on a form or stretcher to prevent the shrinkage. In the dirty westerns, our heroes and villains were taking strips of already-sun-dried and currently-shrunken rawhide, soaking the strips in a bucket or a stream to make them wet and supple again, stretching them out, and using them for the bondage. The strips would supposedly shrink again as they dried, making the knots tighten and the bondage inescapable.

True rawhide also has a tendency to rot and stink, because it hasn’t been tanned (preserved with chemicals). But minimally-tanned leather (enough to prevent rotting, but not enough to improve the texture much) is often sold as a commercial product. Rawhide boot laces, for example, are not unheard of; and The Stockroom sells rawhide lacing in six foot strips for “binding, bootlacing, making loops for hanging toys, or whatever else you can think of.”

rawhide laces for bondage

Some anecdotes turned up by Google suggest that modern commercial rawhide products lack the dramatic shrinking power of a freshly-drying animal skin. But all leather becomes more elastic and stretchy when it’s wet and then shrinks again when it dries, so I’m sure there’s at least a bit of bondage value in wet rawhide strips even if it doesn’t live up to the historical fantasy. One thing’s for certain; the shrinking power of wet rawhide remains large in the popular bondage-fantasy imagination! Consider this example, in Trip To Chicago by Jenny, where the shrinkage is dramatic and very rapid (much more so than in any possible reality):

He got a thin piece of wet rawhide and bound it around the base of my breast, turning it into a round ball that looked like it was stuck on my chest. The same procedure was done to the other breast. Now with very thin hide he bound each nipple — a bit of an effort as a lot of the nipple had been pulled into the breast by the first binding. But he managed it, causing me to gasp.

Then he made me sit on my heels while he bent my hands behind my back upwards to my neck, binding the wrists very tightly then binding down towards my elbows pulling them together. This was uncomfortable but bearable, the two round boobs now stuck out looking even more artificial. Now with a flat band of hide he lightly bound my neck from shoulder to chin. Several layers were applied until my head could not move and seemed to be stretched higher. A dog type collar with a D-ring was fastened around my neck. A further piece of rawhide was attached to the bindings that held my wrists, then threaded through the D-ring, which had the effect of pulling my already stretched and restricted arms up to my neck. He helped me to my feet and starting wrapping thongs around each shoulder and criss-crossing down my body, leaving a diamond pattern. As he went he pulled each leather throng just that bit tighter, almost cutting into my pale skin.

I was left by the fire. I asked what he was going to do now. He replied, “Watch you start to squirm!”

He went on to explain that the rawhide would soon start to dry out, and as it did, it would shrink. Almost as he seemed to finish talking I was aware of the binding tightening. I was sure I could hear it creaking! I think it was my breasts first, they were already too tight but now, Arrrrr! They were hurting, my nipples were going numb, but now the bindings on the body began to bite in. I was aware of my rib cage being crushed and the extra tight wide binding around the waist really was cutting in. The feeling in my neck was as if a clamp was exerting even pressure all around, it was not restricting my breathing but was making my face very red and my eyes bulge…

Do I need to say “Don’t try this at home?” No? Good.

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Kinky Sex Can Be Hard

Here’s a tiny excerpt from a long and awesome essay by “The Ferret” called Why I Can’t Rape My Wife. I think Ferrett exaggerates the difficulties for comic effect, but he makes some good points:

Bondage. There’s three types of bondage: Cheap, moderate, and fucking scary.

Cheap Bondage doesn’t work, and Nike Velcro shoes prove it.

…

Here’s the secret of cheap bondage: Your partner’s faking it. That ad-libbed knot at the right bedpost slipped twenty minutes ago, and he’s been working overtime to keep his hand in place. That blindfold-cum-scarf? She’s been peeking out from under since you started. Unless you’re some kind of sadistic boy scout, your trivial attempts at impromptu bondage are doomed to failure. You need the professional equipment, pal.

Moderate Bondage is where you finally take the leap and purchase professional equipment – manacles, leather gags, whips, and the like. This provides approximately three hours of fun and two years of terror.

The fun is when you bring all of your lovely glittering merchandise home and really go to town. This is when you really need a safe word, because your partner is genuinely immobilized and you can do anything you want. Woo hoo!

Then you’re sitting on the bed in a puddle of sweat, rubbed-off skin, and fluids that were really interesting when they were body temperature but are just kind of icky now… And you’re wondering where the fuck you’re supposed to stash all of this stuff.

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Vintage Chair Bondages

There’s chair bondage:

chair bondage, vintage

And then there’s chair bondage suspension:

chair bondage suspension

This looks like Irving Klaw’s work, but I cannot say for sure that it is.

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