Here’s some classic Japanese predicament bondage from a 2003 Kitan Club magazine. She doesn’t look too thrilled with whatever soiled-diapers game he wants to play with her, but the longer she can keep him on that track, the longer until he gets bored enough to pull those hot irons out of the brazier and move on to his true fetish passion: screaming!
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When you’ve got a play partner blindfolded and shaved with her legs apart on your bondage bed, what’s missing to make your session perfect? Nothing, because the bottle of baby oil is right there:
Photo is from Bondage–USA.com, a short-lived bondage photography site that vanished more than a decade ago.
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The best part of Christmas shopping? It’s when you wander the high street and enjoy the fancy window displays. That’s what I say, anyway:
Artwork is by PixelJail.
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Why was this pretty plaything tied by the neck and ankles and left to sizzle in the desert sun? Imagine the scene. They’ve been trailed by horny and violent desert nomads for three long days. The gap is closing. The water is running low. And then her traveling companion got a bright idea. “Why not,” he thought, “leave the wench as a distraction? I’m tired of her anyway, my final canteen of water will last much better for one than two, and those camel-riding shitheads may well spend enough time playing with her that I can get away clean. It’s worth a try!”
Photo is from Beauté No. 55 (circa 1935).
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I have no evidence for this fond theory of mine. Nonetheless I believe that every young woman who is even a tiny bit curious about how pleasure and pain work together in her body has taken, at one time or another, the binder clip challenge. Perhaps sometimes it’s a communal experiment, at a sports camp or in a dormitory. Perhaps more often it’s a solitary exploration, and the clip goes in even more tender and private places before the experiment is over. Eventually they all have to find out: “How long can I last with binder clips on my tits?” This bodacious babe is lasting pretty well, but she’s starting to sweat it:
Artist is Okuma Masami.
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Somehow our minimally-clad heroine and her shirtless husband got grabbed by a gang of ruffians. I don’t know what the ruffians want, but it’s pretty obvious what they plan to do:
Artwork is from the cover of the November 1964 issue of South Sea Stories.
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These vintage bondage postcards feature pampered and bejeweled slavegirls in light chains and chastity belts. Said to be from the Dupret collection (there’s a book) of early 20th century erotica:
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