Bondage Blog

In honor of the upcoming 2012 romantic holiday, and the considerable sale that The Stockroom has on many items every year around this time in honor of it, I thought I’d use my Friday bondage links pulpit to highlight the joys of pink and red BDSM gear, bondage hearts and leather flowers:

• Previously blogged about here on Bondage Blog: a Pink Leather Chastity Belt, a Red Leather Collar, a Pink Leather Collar, the Jawbreaker candy gag with pink or red head strap, the Bondage 101 kit complete with black leather rose, feather roses in red or black, festive red or black ribbon-and-bow cuffs for gift-wrapping yourself or others, the classic-but-serious pink hogtie clips, pink bondage tape, and a pretty handcuffs necklace. But wait…there’s more!
• How about a paddle that makes red hearts right on her bottom? Or just a heart-shaped leather paddle? Or this prettier one? Or one with two purple hearts?
• But no. You want something more severe. You want a fancy flogger in red and black, or a red cane, or a red riding crop.
• With toys like that coming out of your toybag, you might need a little visual control to make sure your surprises are genuinely surprising. This sleek little number in red satin is fine if she’s a good girl, but if she’s a determined peeker, you’ll need a serious fleece-lined blindfold in red leather, or maybe this padded pink leather one. And if those won’t get the job done, you might need an honest-to-god serious hood.
• Keeping her positioned where you want her is important too. You’ll need some red hemp rope for starters. If you’re too lazy for rope, I actually quite enjoy these twist ties (think heavy wire with padding). A spreader bar is always fun too.
• Not every girl is going to properly appreciate this festive pink speculum. But that doesn’t mean you can’t have fun with it!
• Of course there are many more options available in pink leather wrist cuffs, ankle cuffs, and collars. If that posture collar is not your thing, you can go for a simpler pink collar like this one or this one.
• Ball gags, too, are sometimes employed when a girl would scream but her master finds such noises displeasing. They, too, can be found in pink or red.
• Did we cover leashes? Again, pink ones and red ones are easily found.
• If there are orifices to be invaded and/or plugged, holiday colors can nonetheless be obtained. These red butt plugs and this pink inflatable dildo should get you started!
• Sexy costumery should never be neglected, either. From pink leather corsets to latex kiss dresses, from latex opera gloves and stockings to traditional red teddies and provocative panties, there’s always fun to be had in a special and provocative look.
• Did none of that work for you? In that case, you (or someone in your house) is probably crazy, and you might therefore want to consider a nice red leather straightjacket…

Elsewhere on Bondage Blog:

• Valentines Bondage Blowjobs
• Bondage Rope
• Get Ready For "Black And Blue Friday"
• BDSM And Love (And Staples)
• A Shadow Slaves Valentine

She’s a hard-working office slave, I’ll give her that! Note the worn-through knees on her stockings, the rug burn, and the leash welts on her ass:

Found here.

It looks like our lucky photographer has caught himself a lively one! She’s lost her wrestling match, she’s well tied up, her stockings are running, but her eyes over the gag say she’s still up for a little bit more friendly struggling:

This bondage enema scene comes from an old whips-and-canes stroke book (paper porn! how quaint!) called The Prefect by P.N. Dedeaux:

A comical sight met her eyes.

Two quite big girls, bare but for their stockings, were having a double enema. Kneeling side by side on a wide wooden bench, they had their arms secured behind them in wrist and elbow cuffs, their heads right down and buttocks thrust up. Into the amber anus of the one on the left threaded a red rubber tube which ran from a canister set on a shelf above. A second tube, of quite astonishing length, was just being inserted into the entrails of the girl on the right by the black-robed Matron, as Maria walked in to pay her respects and report on her finding.

“This I want to watch”, she said with a creamy chuckle, as the lightly-greased tube slid in, to the girl’s gaspingly protested oooh’s and aaah’s. Every now and then the Matron turned the tap of the canister briefly, to ease in the passage.

“Two notoriously costive girls”, she announced in her usual surly tone, “I mean to teach them a lesson. This is their third high colonic. Three litres of hot soaped water and turpentine. They take it together and the one who holds it the shorter time gets my martinet under her with a vengeance. She also has another dose, held up by a saddle strap with a nice big dildo attached to it. There … there you go, my monkeys, swallow it all every drop, there’s no way you can’t, so there.”

The tap was opened and soon the bent bottoms were rippling with quivers, quick muscular contractions as the fluid seeped into them. But Maria Daunitz had really to laugh when the girls stood up after it was over, and the tubes snaked out of their bottoms. Their expressions were so woeful, she had no idea an enema could be as corrective; moreover, their bellies were distended until they seemed pregnant, their arms still fastened behind them.

They were stood in a tiled bathroom, side by side, and in a second both were writhing. They were also sweating since the injection had been hot. Truly, she had seldom seen such miserable miens as the pair clenched their legs, or paced and bent, in their efforts to retain their respective doses. But she had work to do herself and couldn’t wait any longer, dearly as she would have liked to see that curious raised commode, with the sharp spikes around the seat, in urgent use. She supposed that with arms behind like this a girl had to sit down hard on it. However.
Excusing herself to the implacable Steinkopf, watching grim-faced with a martinet in one hand, she was half out the dispensary when there came a wail, a girlish cry – “Oooouuu, I can’t … it’s coming down!”, plus the sounds of a helpless, abandoned pattering of feet, then categoric noises, in particular a high-pitched pinging – and a scream!

Maria Daunitz went on her way.

Elsewhere on Bondage Blog:

• Locked In The Enema Chair
• The Enema Bondage Chair
• Enema Submission
• Enema Bondage Manga
• Versatile Table Bondage
• Enema Bondage
• Bondage Enema

It’s amazing the fun little bondage stories you can find surfing on Informed Consent:

Mr C is the man who introduced me to the concept of the naughty box. On the first morning together he pulled a big box out from underneath his bed. He opened it up and inside there were all numbers of strange things… straps and leather and rope and things I didn’t even recognise.

“Has anyone ever used a cane on you?” he asked as he pulled a long rattan cane from the naughty box.

It looked liked something a school teacher from the 50’s might have used on a naughty pupil. He smacked it against the pillow on the bed a few times and it made a swishing noise as it whizzed through the air. I knew the answer to his question didn’t really matter much.

Standing in front of him in my underwear I suddenly felt really nervous.

“Take your panties off, your bra and stockings can stay on”.

More nervous than ever I did as I was told.

I dropped my panties on the floor and lay on the bed as indicated. He told me to lie on my front and he pushed two pillows below my hips so my behind was pushed rudely upwards. He used rope to tie my hands tightly together and then tied them to the head of the bed. He stretched my legs almost painfully wide apart and tied each ankle to the bottom corners of the bed.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw him move and pick up the cane. When he stroked it over the backs of my thighs I forced myself to stay relaxed and not shudder.

“This is going to hurt but you are going to be a good girl and stay nice and quiet”.

I didn’t even get a chance to take a breath before the cane landed on my raised behind. I felt the impact first, the stinging pain came seconds later. Before I even had time to complain he hit me again. And then again.

This has got to be the most awesomest Craigslist resume posting ever: Please discipline codegirl and make her code very difficult AJAX. Three of seven paragraphs:

I don’t want to be a girl dropped into the coding pit to be awed and then broken by Senior PHP engineers wielding grim and terrible caching weapons. Rails engineers by the thousands marching, marching against everyone, on every border while I draw well water shot through with ponderings of the scalability issues with PHP, and how for form to exist in our physical universe it must be have a name. If matter or a form cannot be named, it cannot exist.

I don’t want to fight sexy ATG boys about AJAX performance within droplets, I don’t want to bicker in the morning concerning why JQuery is the proper and correct framework, all the time everytime. It’s ok. I love you guys. I do. I worship you Warcraft playing, contract working, hordes of luscious web men. I know what you love. I want to be there for you.

I will code the HTML you don’t want to. It’s ok. I don’t mind. I like it. I will code it handcuffed if you want. It’s ok. If I’m too slow, or if you check and my adhering to standards is inappropriate or my fumbling, adolescent understanding of the finer point of JSON infuriate you, you can tear my stockings. They were expensive, and I bought them for work. They were my only pair. I am a humble code girl.

The vast Bondage Blog empire could really use a handcuffed HTML minion, oh yes it could. We could even provide discipline. Sadly, we can’t afford a minion of such quality. We shall have to pine, in jealousy of whatever Bay Area coding shop gets her. Kink.com, are you listening?

Thanks to Violet Blue for the link and for the full mirror — which you may need if Craigslist decides this is just too much fun for any one resume to have.

Poor Juliette, spanked already and now she’s being put into strict bondage for the whipping that’s to come:

She then dragged Juliette to the couch and flung her face downwards so that the lower part of her belly and the top of her thighs rested right on the cushions. This naturally raised her bottom and thighs, making her body form a very broad inverted V.

“But what’s the meaning of this?” she said as she saw the cheeks of the poor bottom still blushing slightly from my recent smacking. “Do you mean to say you’ve dared?” she went on, turning to me. “Oh, you, just wait.”

She said no more but took hold of Juliette’s right ankle and pulled the leg towards the edge of the couch. Then, stooping down, she caught hold of a silk cord that was fixed to the side of the couch, evidently for that purpose. It had a running loop at the end. This she slipped over the girl’s foot and drew it tight. She then pulled the other leg as far apart as possible and fixed that in the same way.

Poor Juliette was now perfectly spread-eagled. Her arms were above her head tied at the wrists, her head was buried in the couch. Her bottom was raised, as I have said, by the ridge of cushions and seemed to invite the lash, and her wide-opened thighs revealed the mossy lips of her pussy, still slightly open. There she lay, a piteous little figure, all white. The only contrast was her dark hair, slight silky tendrils in her armpits, the suggestive shadow between the cheeks of her bottom, the soft curls between her legs, and last of all, showing up vividly against the whiteness of her skin, her long black silk stockings, just a study in black and white, no touch of colour anywhere, for she wore black garters. I feasted my eyes on the lovely vision. How could anyone, I wondered, hurt such a dainty graceful creature?

I looked at Muriel. Her eyes showed clearly that she was by no means insensible to the alluring picture. But there was a gleam of fierceness as well as admiration in her glance.

“Now,” she said suddenly, “I must get rid of my corsets. I shan’t be long. You can admire the dainty darling’s white skin while I’m gone. There won’t be much white left after I’ve finished with her,” and she went quickly into her bedroom, leaving the door open.

From Sadopaideia (1907).

Elsewhere on Bondage Blog:

• Chained Wrists And A Ready Birch
• Sisters in Bondage