Bondage Blog

From Freya. Nifty post, too short to summarize. Read it, you’ll like it.

This image shows something perhaps closer to torture than to BDSM play, showing as it does a victim of the Judas Cradle (said to be one of the favored toys of the Inquisition). However, I think we may safely conclude that the artist who drew this piece did so with an appropriate degree of lust in his heart:

Presumably no beautiful naked witches were harmed during the artistic process. (Drawing via Fetish Playmates.)

Monk’s sidekick henchman Griffin writes about playing with girls:

Monk and I were tired, and had no intention of playing with the girls. We figured we’d show them the rope and maybe a couple of simple ties and that would be it. However, the girls’ excitement was infectious, and before long we were having a great time. Monk put a beautiful rope corset on C and I’d tied V into a ball.

In particular, V’s response to the rope was most surprising. She claimed not to be very flexible, nor quick to laugh. However, here she laughing her head off and asking me to tie her into a ball. It was simply charming. I explained everything to her before I did it, and V encouraged me to do more. So, I rolled her around for a while, turned her into a footstool, and watched her disappear into rope space. If you’ve never seen it, rope space is what we call it when someone just pleasantly zones out for a while. I love seeing that glazed look on someone’s face.
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In the meantime, I’d put V into a hogtie and was making it increasingly rigorous. She was making great noises, but it was clear she was almost done. I pushed her one last time, forcing her to curse my name before untying her.

I’ve been known to make derogatory remarks about cheap spreader bars made from broom handles and screw-eyes — the adjustable metal kind are so much better for most purposes. However, I’m not sure I would have been so quick to mock, if I’d seen this picture:

Proof yet again that it’s not the tool that matters, but rather the craftsman.

More fun with hemp rope, from Keeper and Kept [link died and was removed]:

I rolled off and got her the little silver bullet vibrator to finish herself off with while I stroked her face and breasts and tweaked the ropes.

Well! At that point, the rope tightened down as hard as her leg muscles could manage, and that was pretty darned tight. And she loved every minute of it. After she’d finally rolled her way through a long orgasm and panted her way back down and relaxed a bit, I untied her and coiled the rope loosely on her tummy. A few idle twitches of the loose ends across her skin had her ready to rape something, anything, all over again.

Elsewhere on Bondage Blog:

• Best Hemp Bondage Rope
• Bondage Rope
• Why Bondage?
• She Likes Hemp Bondage Rope
• Buying Bondage Rope

It’s amazing what you can find on Usenet — in this case, Elvis Presley in bondage. And getting a prison whipping to boot. This would appear to be a production still from Jailhouse Rock:

The above is a cropped detail — the full photo is here.

I love finding blog posts by women who describe the sensations of being in bondage. Here’s Freya talking about the feel of her collar:

It’s fastened about my neck. Black leather. Wide and soft yet unyielding. When I tip my head back I can feel the buckle there and it gives me a shiver of delight. The wide strap attached sits against my spine and my wrists are bound. If I relax them, it pulls on the collar so I must hold myself erect. This is different because I must now force myself to keep my muscles tight. This raises my normal level of docility when I have a collar on. This is a new state of being.