Bondage Blog

Here’s a bondage girl with an attitude problem. Think it will get cured before the cuffs come off?

From Damsels And The Deranged.

I just love getting deliveries:

From Whipped Pussy.

Have you ever been involved in wedding preparations (or an actual wedding) where the bride and her posse of girlfriends ran around in a frenzy, complaining and worrying and fussing and yapping and generally making life unbearable for everyone in a ten-mile radius who just hoped for a quick and quiet ceremony followed by a lot of drinking and dancing?

Yeah, me too.

Lucky and clever is the groom who (with a few of his stalwart best men) knows how to make a wedding proceed smoothly and quietly with a minimum of fuss:

2015 update, slightly bigger image:

Elsewhere on Bondage Blog:

• Handcuffed Bride
• Bondage Wedding Celebration
• Bride On A Leash
• Crawling Down The Aisle
• Bondage Bride

It does, it truly does.

“I’m coming down to you,” shouted Sam, though how he hoped to help in that way he could not have said.

“No, no! wait!” Frodo called back, more strongly now. “I shall be better soon. I feel better already. Wait! You can’t do anything without a rope.”

“Rope!” cried Sam, talking wildly to himself in his excitement and relief. “Well, if I don’t deserve to be hung on the end of one as a warning to numbskulls! You’re nowt but a ninnyhammer, Sam Gamgee: that’s what the Gaffer said to me often enough, it being a word of his. Rope!”

“Stop chattering!” cried Frodo, now recovered enough to feel both amused and annoyed. “Never mind your Gaffer! Are you trying to tell yourself you’ve got some rope in your pocket? If so, out with it!”

“Yes, Mr. Frodo, in my pack and all. Carried it hundreds of miles and I’d clean forgotten it!”

I really like the intense eye contact and the little beads of sweat on model Georgia Peach’s upper lip in this picture from Sex And Submission:

Of course, it doesn’t hurt that she’s lovely as hell. To see her in close contact of another kind, if you know what I mean and I think you do, just look at the rest of the photoshoot.

Elsewhere on Bondage Blog:

• Glazed Ball Gag
• Chained Blonde Amazon
• Strait-Jacketed Blonde Sex Toy
• Pretty Blonde Service Slave
• Kinky Rubber Corset Thing

I’ve always enjoyed bondage fiction that explores the specific link between bondage and sex. Although whipping and caning can be fun stuff, too much BDSM fiction does the “tie the girl up, whip her a lot, that was fun, story over” thing. The Bondage Blog motto (“taking pleasure in the beauty of restrained women”) demands just a bit more lubricity, thank you very much. Helpless sexual availability is what puts much of the fun in bondage, as demonstrated in this excerpt from a book called Controlling Catherine:

Without a word Nick leant forward and wrapped the blindfold around my eyes and then buckled it quite tightly behind my head. Instantly every sensation was heightened and fear shivered down my spine. I think I probably wanted to leave at that point but it all happened too quickly for me to react. Nick picked me up easily and laid me, on my side on the bed. I heard the jangle of steel and the cold bite of handcuffs as they were clamped onto my wrists and ankles.

I had never even dreamt of anything like this. I had perhaps fantasised a little about being tied up but had always imagined myself prettily laid out on a bed available and inviting. What Nick had done had completely thrown my thought processes. He had clamped each wrist to its corresponding ankle. My wrists were inside my knees so my legs were splayed wide and disgustingly open. The connection between the links of the handcuffs was short so my ankles were drawn up to my wrists putting me in a sort of frog position.

I had never felt so mortified in my life. Luckily I couldn’t see just how bad I looked. I think if I’d been able to see myself staked out in such a rude manner I might have freaked. I curled into the covers as best I could but it was so easy for Nick to keep exploring in my most intimate places.

Waves of humiliation swamped me as I whimpered to him, begging him to set me loose. His response was to poke one finger inside my far too available hole and jab it in and out in a rhythmical movement, twisting it firmly as it went in. Within seconds my arousal had returned and my predicament was forgotten. I found myself grinding towards his invading finger begging for more. Relentlessly it did its work, swirling and stabbing, poking and softening my entrance for god knew what. It was nearly impossible to breathe with the crippling intensity of what he was doing to me.

Just when I thought I would faint at the incredible rush of feelings, he turned me onto my back and I am sure you can picture the awful position I found myself in. The only option I had was to let my legs fall apart but still they were up tight to my torso so not only was my pussy available, my arse was wide open too. I tried hard to roll back over onto my side but all Nick had to do was push me back and I had no defence whatsoever. He could do what he wanted.

He manoeuvred my arms until my breasts were forced out in between them and gripped hold of my nipples. I yelped loudly when I felt a biting pain crush first one and then the other. I had to pant rapidly to accept the pain but Nick was amused by my antics.

‘They’re just nipple clamps, Catherine. You’ll have to get used to a lot worse than them before the night is over, so stop making such a fuss.’ With that he wiggled them about sending shards of biting pain through my crushed nipples and straight down to my crotch. I groaned again surprised at the warm spread of pleasure that stayed with me.

The old detective magazines always had the best women in peril covers. I’m not sure if this is supposed to be an electric chair or just a handy place to keep our intrepid female reporter out of the way: