Bondage Blog

If girls want to be slaves, there’s no harm in that. How could there be? Wonder Woman herself says so:

I don’t normally use words like “boobie” — that one is sort of third grade, y’know? — but alliteration is fun and sometimes — as in the case of extremely-well-endowed Hogtied.com model Jada Fire, it just seems appropriate. She’s well-endowed, and in a lot of boobie bondage:

If the cross ropes don’t strike you as pretty, here’s a more conventional breast tie:

And here’s evidence that the ol’ meanies at Hogtied.com are pervs first, and pornographers second. What sort of evil mind does it require to give this young lady bricks for breast pillows?

Here’s a front view, in case you missed it:

Not, not, not nice at all.

Still don’t believe me? There are more pictures and video.

Elsewhere on Bondage Blog:

• A Belt Around Her Boobs
• Helpless Breast Bondage
• Roped Slavegirl With Enormous Boobs
• Really Big Breast Bondage
• Flexible Slavegirl, Hogtied

Bondage on the bed, a strapping with the leather belt, some rough sex — these are the rewards of the slavegirl with the attitude problem:

For the last several days, I have been getting warnings from Master that I need to watch my mouth, that I needed to cool the attitude. I knew he was serious in his warnings but still, I didn’t really stop.

He told me Monday morning that I needed to be reminded of my place, and advised me that I would be getting 15 lashes w/ the belt… I was also advised that IF i didn’t cool it then it would get worse. Well, as of last nite it was 20.

I was told by Master that he would be over, so I came home to the apartment, cooked, straightened up, took a bath, et cetera. Aand when he arrived he had said several things to me and well needless to say my attitude was less than plesant and most certainly not slave-like. Finally he shot me a look and I knew I was in trouble.

He undid his belt, took the strings from his boots and proceeded to tie then around each wrist. He led me to the bed and removed my shirt, my bra — and I was pushed facedown on the bed, my wrists spread to either side and tied to the bedframe. Then he went to the other room. I could hear him in my drawers, the closet. When I asked what he was doing I was told not to worry about it. He returned w/ a blindfold and 2 other belts, placed the blindfold on my eyes — and jerked my pants off.

He then proceeded to tie my feet spread eagle to either side of the bed frame. I whined, moaned that it hurt. His responce was: “aww.. is the baby uncomfortable.. now we wouldn’t want the little baby to hurt would we?”

…

He shoved his hard cock in my mouth and I sucked until I couldn’t breathe. I got 3 smacks with the belt while I was taking his cock, then more. I was expected to keep count — and thankfully I did.

He buried himself inside of my dripping wet pussy many times, but always stopped to smack a few more times. I cried — so hard — I was so loud that he put his hand over my mouth, told me to be quiet.
He then climbed on top of me again; while fucking me in the ass he remined me that I was not in charge, that I was his, that I needed to remember to start taking my frustration and attitude on those who deserve it. And yes: he IS right.

We both came, so hard. After he came, I got the last lashing with the belt. My Master so painfully reminded me that it is HIM who knows best for me.

He then got into the shower. I got in with him. He told me to wash his cock, and I did with so much love. I was bowed before him and knew this is where I belong. He then picked me up from my knees and proceeded to bath me, washing my hair, my face, my body, my ass that he had just smacked. He held me under the water and kissed me so sweetly, so full of love — it was a moment that I will forever cherish.

I’m not a huge slash fan, but I do enjoy CSI, so this Gil/Sara story amused me deeply. Sara annoys the entire lab, and gets lured to Lady Heather’s for a bit of revenge, including bondage waxing waxing and piercing as a spectator sport:

Gil grinned and went into the other room. She could see him starting to undress. SLOWLY. Gil undressed where Sara could see him. She was spellbound. Grissom’s undoing his shirt. Oh this is better that what I could have imagine. He’s stripping so I can see. I’d rather do that myself…then again I might be alittle too fast. He’s doing it so slowly. Oh yes, yes. This is nice! He’s putting a show on for me. Now if these whores would just leave and let me enjoy this..

“This way, come now!” Lady Heather snapped the riding crop. “You are not ready for Mr Grissom just yet“.

“Lady Heather use the silk rather than the satin. It’s stronger!” Gil stated from the other room.

“As you wish Mr Grissom. Ladies”.

Four girls started to wrap Sara’s wrists and ankles with silk ties. She wobbled in the heels. She couldn’t balance well in this deep pile carpeting. If someone knocked into her, she’ld fall over like a lead balloon. Sara was so intently looking at Grissom stripping in the other room. She didn’t pay much attention to what the girls were doing. They were backing her up to a table, which was tilted vertically. Before she realized it, they had fastened her silk ties with leather straps. The girls worked very swiftly to pull the leather straps tight and swing the table back to a horizontal position. Whoa! I’m losing my balance here! She soon found herself laying spread eagle the table. Quite unable to move much but her head. She kept trying to look into the other room. Grissom was wrapping a heavy silk robe and tying it. Damn missed the best part.

Sara looked around the room. It was getting dimmer. Click. A spot light. I can’t see anything. What the hell is going on here? This is what Grissom wanted? Yeah, I wanted him to pin me to the wall but….he sure wouldn’t want people to watch us, would he? Why is he doing this? What is he thinking?

“Relax Ms Sizzdell, Mr Grissom wants some nice beauty treatments for you. He wants your night to be one you will never forget” Lady Heather cooed, “One that he will ever forget. He’s paid quite handsomely to make sure you are well taken care of”.

I like this bondage vignette, in which Sue tries to sweet-talk her man out of strapping her down in a helpless spread-eagle. Of course, she fails:

As Sue turned, Andrew took her wrists in one hand and she felt the cold grip of metal as a click announced her bondage. She flashed him another red lipsticked smile over her shoulder, “Ooooooo…baby!’ she giggled.

Andrew promised himself that he would break this sexy woman’s composure before morning as he led her to the bed, pushing her back onto it with enough roughness to hint at his possible intentions. Immediately he grabbed one slim ankle and strapped it to the bed, then quickly securing the other one. Only then did he reach into his shirt and remove the chain holding the key to the handcuffs. As he reached behind her and undid the cuffs, the proximity of her body and scent of her perfume distracted him, but did not halt him from implementing his plan.

She rubbed her wrists, then glanced up to see him reaching for her hand with another strap. Composed and sweet as honey, Sue lowered her eyes, then slowly looked into his and smiled one last time. “Lover, don’t tie my hands…” she whispered, trying to control him with her seductive tone.

“Don’t you like losing control? Even a sexy stripper like you has to have moments of submission, Sue.” Sue had performed her first strip for him just last week.

“But Andrew,” Sue cooed, giving him a hot stare, “I want my hands free to hold your ass while I suck your cock…”

Before his concentration could falter, Andrew grabbed her hand and secured it to the third bed post as Sue screamed a loud but ineffective “no.” She knew she could trust him, but she played along, fighting bravely with her last free hand. Andrew easily captured it with his two strong climber’s hands.

Even through her blur of rising fear and desire, Sue admired the quickness and strength in his body. She felt the grip of the unknown, then the warmth of knowing that this unknown had been born in the mind of her perfect lover–it would be incredible. Sue knew that she could do nothing to control events about to occur, so she just relaxed and prepared her mind to enjoy whatever surprise Andrew offered.

Some nice leather bondage in the second of these two paragraphs from a Gorean-esque slavegirl capture fantasy:

She woke up terrified a hand closed over her mouth, somebody was in her flat, her bedroom, on her bed. She wanted to scream, wanted to move but she was paralysed with fright. The light went on 2 men were over her, her duvet was torn from her, she was nude. The leather jacketed men were tall & muscular, powerful & confident, there were 2 other men in her living room. She was yanked out of bed, to her feet, by a fistful of her hair. She opened her mouth as if to protest. Expertly a cold rod was put between her buttocks. She shrieked in pain the cattle prod discharged on her naked flesh. One of the men laughed. “I still prefer the whip,” he said to his colleague.

…

A heavy leather wrap was unfolded on the floor, it was a body hood. She was pushed to her knees, her mouth was ungagged, for a few seconds. They forced her into the leather sheath, she was distraught. It came down to her thighs, at her head a thick ball of leather was pushed into her mouth. External straps secured the gag, similar straps bound her upper & lower arms tightly. A thick strap went between her legs and another clamped her thighs together. There was no need to lock them she was helpless. Her ankles were hobbled. They left her kneeling in front of them.

In a story from Dark Erotic Fiction, we find Julia in a pleasurable bondage predicament:

Delia froze, considering a mad dash to get loose, worried about what the pole might be. She then thought about how she was restrained and how easy it would be for these two to catch her, and that then they’d be angry. She rose and followed Julia, with Rebecca following. They went into another room, one that didn’t have windows. Perhaps it was meant to be a pantry or storage room, but now it was full of equipment she recognized. There was a pillory, a padded horse, several chairs with interesting attachments, and a wooden platform with a pole sticking up, with a dildo on the top. Delia figured out what they meant by the pole, and was a little relieved. Julia drew her over to the pole and positioned her over the pole. “Stand here.” She then got a tube of lubricant from a shelf and covered the dildo with it. “Stand still,” she said, and raised the dildo on the sliding pole, bringing it up to Delia’s entrance. “Wider,” she said, pushing the cylinder into the opening. Delia moved her legs apart as far as possible, and Julia brought the dildo up so that its platform bottom was snug against Delia. The dildo was on a base a little like a saddle. “Up on your toes” instructed Julia, and Delia complied, but worried, fearing that this would mean standing on her toes for a long time. Julia raised the pole the extra distance and locked it in place. “You can relax your legs now,” she said, stepping back. Delia did so, slowly, and found that most of her weight was taken by the saddle, leaving her legs spread less widely, but still not flat-footed. “You’ll find that you can’t climb or jump off that thing. Now, I’ll fit the frontpiece,” she said, putting something on the saddle next to the dildo, positioning it to press against Delia’s clitoris. “And now, we turn it on.”

The low thrum was there before she realized it was the dildo, and it started vibrating slowly within her. The frontpiece made sure that her clit got its share of the vibrations. She gasped, as her keepers chuckled. “You were expecting a torture machine? Well, maybe if you were on it for the night, but a few hours, with the vibrator running its usual program, can be heaven.”