This vintage bondage pose, though obviously excellent for its hairbrush spanking purpose (which explains why I found it at Spanking Blog) amused me when I realized she’s in the dreaded Comfy Chair, only tipped on its back:
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I love it when they suddenly remember that they are in no position to make demands. Suddenly the usual peremptory tone turns all buttery and nice. There’s nothing sweeter than a woman who has just remembered she’d better say “please” for a change. Monmouth has a good story about this:
I led her out to the middle of the room and helped her kneel down. Then I bent her over the footstool and slowly, meticulously, attached her hands and thighs to each of the four sturdy wooden legs.
The floggers and the whips were all hers. She had a beautiful collection that she’d only shown me after I’d tied her up a few times.
I started with something small, almost feathery – a long-handled wooden flogger with strands of woven horsehair that made a surprisingly satisfying sound when I finally stopped teasing her backside with it and gave her an actual swipe.
When the pale skin of her bottom had turned a warm pink, I stroked her for a moment, pulling her buttocks apart to deposit a little glob of cool lube on her pink anus. The buttplug I had brought was not hers. Made of heavy black silicone, it was a beautiful parting gift.
“What the fuck is that?” Veronica asked when I pressed the slick nub of the thing up against her opening.
“I’ll tell you later.”
“No, you can’t do that to me. That’s disgusting.”
“Really? I can’t?” I pushed softly but insistently. The pucker of her ass began to yield to the pressure and the lube.
“Please don’t…
Some slave girls are just bone lazy. They think it’s supposed to be all sitting around on cushions, eating bon-bons and petit fours, doing a little bit of light cocksucking evenings and weekends, never really having to put in any real effort.
Well, this girl got so bad, she stopped taking care of herself. Dare we say it? She got a little rank. Master got a whiff of girl-sweat that wasn’t fresh and enticing and sex, it was yesterday and stale, with a hint of girls-dormitory laundry basket.
Master was Not Pleased. So now he’s bathing her himself, just to make sure the job gets done right. I don’t think he’ll ever have to do it again:
Image credit: The Upper Floor.
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Snatched for a weekend of fun, dumped out of a car on a mountain road when her captors were done with her?
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…so get ready to hold your breath again!
Erectus says: “Always wash your toys when you’re done playing with them and before you put them away.”
Image credit is to Shadow Slaves.
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From Wired Pussy, we find a girl kneeling patiently (what else is she going to do?) with her wrists and elbows tied tightly behind her back:
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Seeing this photo ( source ) triggered an ancient barely-remembered memory from some old stroke book; it was a bondage scene in which Our Heroine was wearing a heavy belted dress, so the villain merely threw it up over her head and tied a rope around it, thus constraining her head and arms neatly inside in a well-packaged bundle. Her underthings, he was free to remove, which he then did, and she was properly ravished, raging helplessly from inside her dress the entire while.
I think it may have been one of the Victorian or faux-Victorian porn classics; if anybody recognizes it from this description, I’d be delighted to have it identifed.
