Of course here at Bondage Blog we’re all familiar with the joys of duct tape for bondage. But I’m not sure I’ve ever seen it wrapped around the model’s boobs quite this way:
Next I suppose is the taping-the-nipples-and-then-ripping-off-the-tape game.
From In Femdom.
From Tangy Sweet:
He didn’t ask me the first time. He simply got out the rope and demanded my wrists. I could have said no and he would’ve stopped, but I was playfully curious. I didn’t know then that it would open a door in my psyche that I didn’t even know existed. I didn’t know then that door would open into a world that had only ever just tickled the edges of my consciousness. I never thought I’d visit, let alone live there.
The first time, watching him stalk around the bed with the rope held loosely in one hand as he figured out the best way to bind me, I’d giggled nervously. I cracked jokes and felt my stomach flutter. But when the rope slipped around my wrists, when it pulled tight, spreading my arms and making it impossible for me to cover my breasts, my cunt, my face, the giggling and jokes stopped.
Exposed and feeling somehow strangely honest, he teased me ruthlessly; building me up and easing me back down over and over. He controlled not only my ability to move, but when and how I would cum. That night he drew out something inside me that had been only an unrecognized speck before. He fanned the speck until it glimmered brilliantly, set only to intensify with time.
That first time he bound my wrists and spread my legs without a word, he teased me until I panted and I moaned, until I begged him for release. When I came, I did it thrashing and pulling at the rope as the waves of it overwhelmed me.
Is your foot slave being a little bit reluctant, lately? The solution is simple: keep her on a very short chain.
Picture via Wired Pussy.
Elsewhere on Bondage Blog:
A fragment of a dream fragment posted by Orchidea:
I’m kneeling naked, head bowed, on a vast floor of grey slabs. The chill seeps up through my body and diffuses, but I’m too terrified to shiver; I’m paralysed, in thrall to the threatening silence interrupted only by the sharp rasp of the chain attached to my shackled wrists – that and the echo of the ringing slaps that explode in my head until I fear losing consciousness. This is before I crave and plead for merciful oblivion. The iron encircling my flesh is as cold, hard and relentless as the floor I cower on.
I’ve had dreams with scenes like that in ’em, but usually only when I was awake.
The riding crop is just to make a point: she’s well tied up and she’s not going anywhere. This is a great bondage position for rear entry sex if you don’t mind a little rope burn on her wrists and legs. Or come at her from the front, until she’s gasping with pleasure:
From this shoot at Sex And Submission.
Here’s an excerpt from a woman’s “beautiful fantasy“, in which she’s handcuffed and teased until “No” turns into “Yes”:
“I hate you. I hate you for the fucking rollercoaster ride! You show up here at 3AM and what? What do you want? Just go!!”
He grabs me and pulls me closer. Now it’s out of principle. I am melting, I can feel my legs weakening, I can feel the wetness between my legs, I can feel my nipples hardening. But mostly, I can feel his hard cock up against me.
“NO. I am not falling for it again. You are going to feel guilty tomorrow and disappear again. No.”
But he won’t let me go. He just pulls me closer and closer until I cannot even struggle. He goes to kiss me. And I bite his lips. He pushes me against the wall and grabs my face. “Oh no, you want me. I know you want my cock inside of you and I need to be inside of you. I’m sorry, its what we both want.”
He pulls out his handcuffs and he handcuffs my hands. Stunned, I say: “Stop it, what are you doing?!?”
“Exactly what you and I want! But you know I can’t control you when you are freaking.”
He grabs me and carries me up the stairs. And leans me against the bed. I feel helpless, I am speechless and I am so fucking turned on. He’s nibbling on my ear and telling me how badly he needs me. He’s working his way down my neck.
“Please don’t, and please uncuff me” I say in a very quiet voice.
“I’m not going to. I like you when you are submissive. I like when you are like a little girl, I like when you pearce me with those green eyes.”
He leans me back on the bed and his lips are working their way down to my breasts. He is circling my nipples with his tongue — I’m gone — I love when he plays with my breasts. I have given in. “You win” I say.
“I know, just relax.” He nibbles at my breasts and then bites my nipple hard. It stung but it sent a spark down to my clit. My goodness, I really liked it. I could hear myself moaning. Was that me?
He worked his way down my stomach to my inner thighs; I could feel his tongue just teasing me, I could feel the juices begin to flow. I have no patience, I need him. My hands are still cuffed, I can’t even reach for him. I am at his mercy. He pulls me to the end of the bed, so that he can easily kneel and take what he wants…
Here’s pure vintage Irving Klaw bondage:
