The Strict Hogtie Is Her Arch-Enemy

Bondage pilates requires frequent arching!

I remember my very first professional hogtie. I say professional only in the respect that it was with a model, it was a paid shoot and I was actively trying to generate bondage material. I had a series of shots that I wanted to capture, and I ran the model through all of them repeatedly until I was happy I had what I needed. I repeated this for each set until the last set, the hogtie. I always saved the hogtie for the last set. They tended to be super-tight, super-strenuous and for the bondage-uninitiated a real eye-opener.

I ran through each angle with precision invariably saying, "big arch." The model looked at me like I was from another world. She could barely move, and any movement that was possible resulted in levels of discomfort that prompted eye rolling, muffled sighs and the occasional raising of a middle finger. She arched meekly and plopped back down almost instantly. I told her that I needed longer to get my focus. She shot me a look that questioned my sanity, grunted, arched, held the position for a half second and plopped back down again. I lowered my camera, told her I knew it was hard and added that when the flashes went off she could relax. She looked at me wondering why I was not taking pictures having her trussed up like a holiday goose. She wriggled in discomfort, crinkled her forehead and flexed her hands. The wheels were turning, and she was questioning if her choice to model was the right one. I readied my camera. She arched, held it and began to tremble slightly while I got my focus. I said almost there in a supportive voice, and her forehead pinched into that lovely damsel expression. I pressed the shutter button. The flashes went off, she collapsed to the ground and groaned in relief. I told her that was great, and her eyes looked like she would be smiling if her face full of ballgag would allow it. I told two more. The look she gave me then was almost asking if I was joking, but she knew I was not. She arched twice more for shots, each time holding the position until her face shifted from "come on and take the damn picture" to "what the hell have I gotten myself into?" Imagine her surprise when she learned I had six more angles, and they all needed arching.



Image courtesy of Packed Mouth and a Jacked Hogtie with Angelique Kithos. Available at http://www.clips4sale.com/38048/10578825.

Angelique is hogtied tight again!

What do you mean we can go a little tighter?

I have always cinched nylon rope as tight as possible. People might things that jute or cotton rope is the most brutal because it is thin and does not slip, but nylon is more brutal because it is more slippery. When something has more give I pull torque, tug and tie it as tightly as possible to lock everything in place. When I tie with all-natural materials things lock in place without much effort. There is not reason to tug them tighter. With nylon every little slip subconsciously compels me to pull and pull some more until I pull it to tension and all the slip disappears from the synthetic fibers. Tied strictly nylon is just as unyielding as natural fiber rope and because it has no give it is far more restrictive to a poor damsel.

Angelique dressed for a set in a shiny, black catsuit, and there could be no better contrast than shiny white rope. Jute would not show well on video and cotton rope looks dirty to me against black. No, it had to be nylon rope and shiny microfoam for the gag. She struggles against me as I tied her which forced ever rope to be pulled as tightly as possible. It wasn't long before the tightness sapped the struggle from her, and I was restraining her without resistance. I could pull every wrap of rope as snug as possible, cinching things down to an agonizing level of constriction. I let her struggle before the hogtie just to loosen her up. I prefer to hogtie a girl when she is limp from being tired. A damsel with tense up when I put on a hogtie, and this works against me. I can pull a tired damsel tighter, pulling that arch to higher and higher levels. Once she started to sweat I knew it was time and stepped in to finish the hogtie. I pulled her crossed ankles to her shoulders until she grunted. I then pulled some more until she started to arch. She groaned, but I pulled even more. I kept pulling until her wrists were under her ankles. Her chest was high off the floor as were her knees, and her struggles were not reduced to that of an obscene rocking bundle of helpless damsel. She began to sweat even more, to the point of it dropping off her face. She could not rest on her chest or with her legs. All the strain was on her back as she balanced on her hips using every muscle just to endure. I left her for six or seven minutes. Her facial expressions told me that she was truly struggling from the start, but she had little choice in the matter. As a bead of sweat fell from the tip of her nose I called it and stepped in to release her. Nylon rope is not a damsels friend. Of course it did not deter Angelique from letting me hogtie her again for the next set. She is funny that way.

Image courtesy of Brutal Backarch for the Bitchy Burglar with Angelique Kithos. Available at http://www.clips4sale.com/38048/10512947.

Heeled, Hosed and Helpless

My Nose Starts Itching Now?!?

The poor girl did little more than lie on her side and grunt into her gag since she managed to roll over. The ropes were too tight, and the position was too restrictive. All she wanted was a few drinks and some relaxing fun at the hotel bar. He seemed nice enough but after several rounds he pulled the inevitable, "let's take this up to my room" routine. She gracefully excused herself to check on a "sick friend" and headed upstairs. He followed her into the elevator though and before she even realized what was happening he was shoving her into his hotel room. She tried to get away, but he physically outmatched her. His hands squeezed her breasts and slapped her ass as she writhed in his grasp. She gasped as the first ropes starting sinking tightly into her flesh. Each knot meant escape was that farther away. By the time her hands, feet, chest and ankles were tied she had only one shot at freedom, but he took that away by shoving a huge ball into her mouth and strapping it in place behind her neck. She began to drool immediately as he bared her huge breasts and began wrapping rope tightly around them. They ballooned and shifted shade to an angry red. She had never felt such discomfort, but he kept winding the rope until her tits were hard and sensitive balloons. She could hardly believe it when he wound rope around her elbows so tightly they touched. Her shoulder ached, but there was no escape from the helplessness and discomfort. He removed her gag, and she pleaded for mercy. He responded by shoving a huge pair of panties into her mouth and tightly taping them in place. It squeezed her head and pushed the panties deeply into her mouth. She had no time to reflect on gag's severity as he pushed her to the floor. He pulled her ankles to her chest forcing her to sharply arch. Her huge breasts barely touched the floor. She grunted from the strain as he cinched things off, but he was not finished with her. He pulled stocking over her head, taped it in place and used it to pull her head sharply back. He told her he was going back to the bar for a couple of shots of whiskey. She was alone. She could barely move but needed to relieve some of the pressure from her aching breasts. She mustered all the energy she had and starting rocking back and forth until she fell to her side. She was a motionless, panting, grunting and moaning bundle of flesh on the carpet, and all she could do was endure. The position was too secure. The ropes were too tight. She had no option but to wait. She shifted every so slightly in her bonds and groaned. All she had to do was wait.

Image courtesy of Bound to Serve His Every Wish with JJ Plush available at http://www.clips4sale.com/38048/8350887.

Some Hogties Are Harder Than Others

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