When Trina Michaels learned she was being transferred to “a more secure facility” she didn’t realize it was a small bank of cells in the basement of the warden’s own house. It turns out he has some very particular notions about rehabilitation:
From a shoot for Sex And Submission, which is part of Kink Prime these days.
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Prolific author and pornographer Irv O. Neil recently did a project with superstar femdom artist Sardax in which they reimagined John Willie’s Sweet Gwendoline as a dominatrix called Adorable Gwen.
Irv’s post about the project includes these reflections on the fateful day he discovered John Willie:
I can remember what I was doing on the day John Alexander Scott Coutts, aka John Willie, died — August 5, 1962 — but only by default. Marilyn Monroe’s death had hit the Chicago papers on Sunday morning August 5 (she’d died late the night before) and it was a big event, even for a kid like myself who didn’t know much about her other than she was a super-famous and beautiful movie star. I can’t recall now if I’d even seen any of her films yet at that point–maybe I’d seen The Seven Year Itch on tv, but I can’t be sure; but her dying so young, and presumably by suicide, was so shocking I can remember where I was when I heard it: standing in the bathroom, listening to the news on a transistor radio. I called out to my mother, who was in the kitchen, “Ma, Marilyn Monroe died!” Why would someone so famous and beautiful kill herself? One of the great mysteries of life was thus first introduced into my consciousness.
John Willie died at 59 in England on that same Sunday, but I wasn’t to discover him for approximately another eleven years. By 1974, I was living in Manhattan, and discovering my taste for Times Square and the great informal museum of porn that was 42nd Street. One night I walked into one of the seediest shops in the area — it was located on Seventh Avenue around the corner from 42nd Street — and it was basically a small but cavernous store with tables of magazines and nothing on the beige walls. After looking through some typical photo magazines, I came upon a cardboard box of items on one table that looked different from the usual ’70s smut pix of grungy chicks and hairy studs, and took into my hands elegant digest-sized periodicals wrapped in plastic with artist-rendered covers. One cover had a pretty girl in heels and chains with a devil leering behind her. Another cover was a painting of high heel shod feet with the ankles bound together with decorative ribbon. The title on both magazines was Bizarre, and I didn’t have to look inside to know that these items were worth purchasing sight unseen (the cranky looking clerk probably wouldn’t have let me open them anyway). They were $3 each then, or $18 in 2022 money; so although they sound cheap now, they weren’t: to put it into perspective, I could get two eggs, toast, potatoes and coffee for breakfast at a diner in 1974 for 79 cents, and my weekly rent for a room in a residential hotel was $23 a week, or $92 a month. In any case, I didn’t have much dough to spend from the temporary office work I did at the time, but I had to have these magazines. In the budding stages of my collecting habit, I bought them. I’d been introduced earlier to the work of Gene Bilbrew through reprints of his femdom imagery in Nugget magazine in 1973, but the creator of these Bizarre magazines was new to me, and it was the beginning of an admiration that continues to this day. I still have those issues, too. And it’s odd to me also that I can so distinctly remember the way the store looked, wherein I purchased them. I guess in a way it was a kind of momentous event!
My one and only visit to the porn shops of Times Square was far too late. The 1990s were well-advanced, Rudy Giuliani had arrived, and the pornographic glory was long gone, even if I did manage to buy a couple of badly duplicated but extremely raunchy bondage videos on VHS. Nonetheless, Irv’s account reminds me so very strongly of the kid-in-a-candy-shop sensation the first time I walked into The Magazine in San Francisco and bought my very first bondage magazine (an issue of Bondage Life).
Elsewhere on Bondage Blog:
This is 1950s pinup model Jane Rieger, but the kneeling pose complete with a rope belt that doubles as a leash? Pure kink!
Elsewhere on Bondage Blog:
You’ve got that one kinky rich friend whose mansion is spectacular. His formal gardens are at once beautiful and peculiar. He’s got a complex hedge maze for would-be lovers to get lost in, with more patches of stinging nettles than one would expect to find. At the bottom of the garden there’s a folly ruin complete with a cascading waterfall, and of course there’s a secluded sex-grotto behind the waterfall with a heated pool that seats eight. At every turn, among the spectacular flowerbeds, you’ll find weathered wooden pillories and stocks, rusty old wrought-iron metal cages, and suspicious pillars that are perfectly proportioned to serve as whipping posts. There are entire thickets of willow wands. Plenty of twiggy birch trees. Lots of hickories with thin branches that serve nicely as switches. It’s quite a garden, yeah. So when you’re pretty and blonde and you get an invitation to a Maypole party, you pretty much know that things are gonna get kinkily out of hand once the flower-dancing is done with:
The blonde is Ariel Anderssen and the photographer is J Smith, but I don’t have a link.
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My beard is grey but I am no BDSM greybeard. Nonetheless, I have one piece of slow-won wisdom about BDSM to offer, and it is this:
People will consent to almost anything when their emotional needs are being comprehensively met.
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If you were at all doubtful that BDSM tropes are gaining broader social acceptance, a few minutes on TikTok will set you straight. The culture of “we’ll do anything for clicks” routinely has people doing kinky stuff for the sake of a throwaway joke that will make good content. And if that leads to pretty women kneeling submissively and consenting to objectification for the bit, well then, I for one am here for it:
Video is from @kdavis92 on TikTok.
Since our cuffed and collared slavegirl is kneeling in the corner with no welts showing, she’s probably been instructed to spend a few minutes considering her recent acts of submission and the punishment she is about to receive for the insufficiency thereof:
Photo comes from the great ghost archive of dead porn tumblrs, but I can’t be any more specific than that.
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