More Orgasms Than You Can Count on One Hand

The four extra orgasms are the icing on cake!

Going through my hard-drive is often like panning for gold. I sift down into things deeper and deeper and suddenly I see something glisten. Could it be? No, don't get your hopes up. Many things are shiny, and you've been fooled before. It is worth a closer look though, so lets double-click on that file. Holy shit! I forgot I even had this. I can't believe my naming scheme back then was so cryptic, no wonder I missed this for so long.

Such is the way with some of my releases. I capture everything I shoot. I archive everything I shoot. Sometimes though things get lost, misplaced, hidden beneath a crowd of bound and gagged women. I can overlook them for days, weeks, months and even years. They always have a way of percolating back up to the surface though. My brain interprets things just right one day to look at a file on my drive and look at it. It becomes immediately clear that I haven't done anything with it. Something I forgot I even shot becomes just as new to me as the day I filmed it. Three years hiding on my drive and now bursting forth with bondage awesomeness.

That happened with my most recent update. I was looking for a file and stumbled upon another. The name made no sense, but the size and extension told me that there was something on it worth looking at for a moment. I ran the file, it loaded up into my player and I see Angelique drooling all over herself and moaning like crazy as the first hitachi I ever owned pounded multiple orgasms out of her. She played the sassy damsel. I played the masked villain. She gets taken down, tied up and writhes in chair bondage with open legs that beg for a vibrator. First I let her drool all over herself. Then I grope the hell out of her. Finally she gets a vibrator tied tightly against her crotch buzzing orgasm after orgasm out of her.

How can something like this stay lost for so long? How can the world be so cruel to let something like this do little more than take up space on my H: drive? I don't know. I do know though that I'm ecstatic to have found the gem!

Image courtesy of Struggling Artist's Roped, Groped and Drooling Orgasm Hell with Angelique Kithos. Available at http://www.clips4sale.com/38048/10844389.

Nylon + Duct Tape + Angelique = Tasty Strict Bondage

Like smooth and shiny damsels? Try nylon encasement!

In my early days of shooting I learned a valuable lesson: get a model naked early and film that material as soon as possible. Is this because I like naked girls? No, although I love naked girls. Is this because I'm a huge pervert? No, although I am a huge pervert. Is this because I enjoy the idea of just meeting a model and having her stripped down and helpless on my carpet? I plead the fifth on that one.

Models today almost never bail on a shoot or even a position. There are so many people who will accept being made into a human pretzel, that will endure having their mouths stuffed to overflowing, that don't even blink an eye when the magic wand turns on and turns into an erotic jack-hammer that the field of competition is very level. This wasn't always the case. There was a time when I would send out 25 emails and hope for one model to accept my oh-so-strange offer of tying them up and filming it. Many of these girls had never experienced bondage and if they had it fell far short of the tightness I put them through. The number of shoots I had end early or even after the first set far outnumbered getting all the material I had pain-painstakingly planned for in the days before the shoot. Don't feel sorry for me. I knew full well that most girls could not or would not deal with the Ted Michaels experience. I took the risk willingly because compromise on strict bondage is like negotiation with a hand grenade. I have no interest in it and the result is something blowing up in my face.

The answer came out of pure economics. I learned that many models could not deal with my bondage. I knew I would not compromise on my restraint. I accepted that some would leave early. This is a good place to add that my rate included partial or full nudity. I was shooting a lot but getting no nude work from my collaborators. The answer was simple. Open the door, greet the model politely, explain the shoot and then tell her to put on the birthday suit. In those days this usually resulted in a little surprise because after all getting tied and gagged by a complete stranger but having him see you nude after knowing him five minutes was another. They always stopped worrying about the awkwardness though when the ropes started going on. Funny how your elbows touching for the first time totally takes your mind off of sitting naked in a strange man's living room.

The first time I worked with Angelique she wasn't shy about being nude. She was already an accomplished fine art model. It seemed natural to get her nude right away and then cover her with nylon and duct tape. I haven't done the position in a long time, but I called it the hogtie trainer then. Model's like to cheat on hogties by grabbing the ropes with their hands. The trainer taught them to endure a hogtie without their hands to take away any strain. Models will also dip their head down when tired prevent those wonderful face shots. The trainer holds their head high for everyone to see. Oddly I chose to blindfold Angelique because showing her gag works just as well. We really need to do this one again. I wonder if she will agree?

Image courtesy of Mummified and Vibed with Angelique Kithos. Available at http://www.clips4sale.com/38048/3814980.

Strict Predicament Bondage

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Organic Bondage ... Strict Bondage On-The-Fly

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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.

Every Hogtie Is Different from the Last But No Less Strict

Mental note: choose truth next time and not dare!

I tie restraints a little different each time, so it's always nice to go back and review earlier shoots. So much of tying a girl up for me happens on the fly. I know that I will do a hogtie, but I have no idea of the mechanics of the position ahead of time. It starts and then evolves into the final restraint based on spontaneous factors. I know A and I know Z, the hell with how I am going to get there. I have a damsel that can handle great restraint. I am a rigger that knows how to tie someone up. I trust that we will both get to a place that look spectacular.

I do restraint on the fly. I find that for me the fluid results is far better than a meticulously planned position. So many things happen during a restraint that throw off a rigid plan. I like to go with the flow. I know where I am starting and let the river take both of us. It will go to the right place if I trust in her ability to take restraint and my ability to apply restraint. As such my hogties are always a little different each time I do them. I need to secure some rope, so I add something. I have some rope left over, and I do a decorative coil or a wrap of some sort. I need her to arch more, and I add a cinch or two in a place that I haven't before. It's great for me to have a mental inventory of all these variations because at the time all my brain remembers is I hogtied a damsel.

The image above is a great example. I have hogtied Angelique more times than I can count. I have used nylon rope, cotton rope, jute rope, duct tape, electrical tape, stockings, white rope, red rope, black rope, brown rope and the list goes on. Every time the restraint is different. The river takes us both to the same destination of ultra-strict restraint, but that journey is different. This hogtie took some turns that changed the look. A rock appeared and we veered to the left. We hit some rapids and needed to paddle hard back to the right. Some small and not-so-small obstacles demanded we steer the raft where the river wanted, not where we planned. I glanced over and could not see my scissors when I wanted to cut away the pantyhose that would not fit in her mouth, so I just taped over the wad over her lips. It made for a great gag. I felt like her arm ropes would slip so I used decorative loops and cinches to hole them in place. The look was great. I needed a rope for the hogtie and was out, so I untied her knees to use that rope. The knee spread allowed for a much more severe arch in the hogtied. A dozen or more elements of that hogtie happened because we hit on-the-fly challenges and just went with the flow. The result was one of my favorite hogties!

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

Bondage Bluff Becomes Strict-Restraint Tell

Um, you can just wrap it instead of pulling it so tight!

Bondage shoots are like a poker game where the damsel has to deal with the hand the producer deals her and play it until the end. Folding is always a possibility, but most models only tap out under the most unpalatable circumstances. They play their cards, no matter how poor the hand, until the winner rakes in the pot. Of course the win for the model is release. Any number of bad cards find their way into a damsel's hand. Her arms might go numb up to the point of tingling and stay that way. She may shift just enough for the blood flow in her hands to return fully bringing "the fire." Her shoulders and jaw might ache, but she plays her hand like it is a winner. The viewer sees what she wants them to see. They see distress and sensual struggle. They hear moans and groans that could just as easily say, "let me go" as well as, "my panties are getting wet despite my shame!" The model shows the ultimate poker face, the face that the viewer needs to see to believe the scene.

One expects the model to bluff with the viewer. One does not however realize she also bluffs with the producer. She wants them to think she is made of iron. She needs them to feel confident that she can be bent but not broken. She assures them her mouth can accept almost anything to silence her for the audience. Most models though have not played poker with such high stakes before though. They know the basics and have enough skill to pass for the viewer, but they have not played a pot through with a really bad hand. Even worse they have no idea what to do with such a bad hand. Their bluff is betrayed by a tell, a subtle hint that they are not longer playing the hand. It is the hand that is playing them. Every damsel has their own tell. It is a reflex, an anomaly, an action that goes against the normal script they play out during a scene. It is subtle and easily missed but knowing the model it becomes glaring.

Angelique showed her tell on our first shoot. She talked about how she could handle any gag. She had been gagged with almost everything, had seen it all and was ready for anything. I strapped a ballgag into her mouth, a huge ballgag. She did what most damsels do and locked her molars into it, preventing it from going all the way into her mouth as I fastened the strap. I then crushed her elbows together. She was flexible even at that point in her bondage career but had never experienced the shoulder-wrenching sensation of having her elbows rubbing against each other. As she mentally tried to process this new feeling I took the strap on her ballgag and pulled it two notches tighter. She gasped. The huge red orb was now deeply locked into her mouth, and her jaws pried open. I was not done though. I took out Microfoam tape and began wrapping it around her face. I pulled each wrap as tightly as possible without snapping the tape before laying it over her mouth. The tape squeezed her face and pushed the ball in her mouth even deeper into her face.
Her tell was obvious at this point. A crease emerged between her eyebrows. Models hate that crease and avoid it at all costs. It is the kind of crease that millions of women try to remove by injecting Botox into their faces over and over. Once set in place, it is there forever. Angelique would never purposely use that expression. In the poker game that is a bondage shoot her bluff had become a tell. Her cards now laid bare she could only ride the hand out until the end hoping beyond hope that I would not raise and even worse, go all in!

Image courtesy of His Dreams Became Her Bondage Nightmare with Angelique Kithos. Available at http://www.clips4sale.com/38048/10177341.

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.

Pepper Sterling and Monica Jade, Setting Up Shoots Now

The images above are linked from Monica's and Pepper's public Tumbler pages and remain the copyright of the producer of the images,  the model in the image or a party copyright has been transferred to by the original holder. These images do not show my work with the model and are provided as examples based on publicly available material of each model.

I am setting up shoots with both Pepper Sterling and Monica Jade. I am very excited about the opportunity to work with both of these wonderful women. I have already worked with Monica on other fetish content and am looking forward to working with her on strict bondage material. Pepper recently contacted us, and I am highly impressed with her growing bondage portfolio.

Both girls are highly flexible and have a high discomfort level. Monica will appear fully nude while Pepper will do up to topless. Pepper is available for forced orgasm material. Both girls are available for grope and fondle, spanking, breast bondage, clamps, lift and carry, suspension, mummification, human furniture, severe elbow restraint, extreme mouth-packing, transport, crotch ropes, flogging and moderate breast torture. If your interests fall outside of this list please feel free to inquire about other things each model is available to shoot.

Customs are on a first-come-first-served basis with priority given to any custom 30 minutes or more.


For details about a custom with either girl please email me HERE.

More images of both girls are available at their Tumbler pages linked below:
http://peppersterling.tumblr.com/
http://msmonicajade.tumblr.com/

Chairs Don't Have to be Vertical for Bondage Fun

I sometimes order with my damsel on the side

There is a certain allure to doing something safe, thinking nothing of it at the time and finding out later that it scared the crap out of the model. I think of a situation in terms of security and safety. I tied Angelique's wrists, ankles and knees tightly. I ropes her wrists and ankles to the chair thoroughly and tied her chest and elbows over the chair back. I welded her nicely to the piece of furniture and at no risk of falling. Even though I plugged her face with a huge ball and taped it in place tightly I could still make out the difference between her play-acting and her communications about comfort. I grabbed the chair by the back and seat firmly then slowly and carefully lowered her to the floor. It was slow, safe and, as I found out later, completely terrifying to Angelique.

Her perspective differed from mine greatly. She could barely move. Her elbows touched behind her back, and she was already losing feeling in her hands. The microfoam tape held not only the ball in her mouth but also a growing reservoir of saliva. Her vocalizations balanced making noise and keeping that pool of spit from hitting the back of her throat and causing a gag reflex. When I grabbed that chair the creaking noise that said "great video" to me said "holy shit this thing is going to fall apart!" She instinctively went to put her arms out to break her fall, but she could not. The restraint locked them to the chair. She couldn't even kick her legs out to help break her perceived fall. She shrieked automatically and felt her saliva hit the back of her throat. She started to cough and quickly fought back the tickle that could lead to gagging. The slow descent only prolonged her intense feeling that a rope or the chair would give way and send her crashing to the floor at any moment. My safely orchestrated move was a very intense experience for her indeed, and I had no clue that was the case.

I feel fortunate to have this footage. A part of this feeling is because this was the first video I ever shot with Angelique. This clip also highlights just what a perfect damsel Angelique is on film. She combines being feisty with helpless in a way I have never experienced. She can go from bitchy to whiny to wide-eyed and moaning in the blink of an eye. She is a rare case of loving a challenge but hating being restrained so tightly. There is no better damsel than someone who can loathe you while you tie her up, be genuinely concerned about what comes next while she is struggling and then tell you how awesome the challenge was while she questions you about what the next one might be. It brings out my creative side in the best way possible. Most importantly I am fortunate because this shoot is when I started falling in love with her. I could tell then I was off-balance, and I have been lucky to have her keeping me on my toes ever since. I have footage of the time I started to fall for the love of my life, and to me that is a very special thing indeed.

Image courtesy of His Dreams Turned into Her Bondage Nightmare with Angelique Kithos available at http://www.clips4sale.com/38048/10177341.

Nyxon Learns How to Furrow Her Brow, the Jacked Hogtie Way

Strict bondage: Furrowing brows since 1978.

When you do strict bondage there is always a point where a scenario shifts from a model acting like a damsel to being a real damsel in distress. This in no way implies any danger to the model, only that the restraint is real as well as the predicament. A tight, immobilizing position is not comfortable, allow escape or is easy to endure. There are ways to make things less strenuous, but when everything is finally cinched up into a jacked position model's are not entirely playing a part. Their skin feels the bite of tight ropes digging in, and their muscles tire and ache from being stretched and compressed. Their jaws start to throb as they try to focus past the tickle in the back of their throat or the increasing amount of saliva they cannot swallow or get past a tape gag wrapped around their head five times. Their grunts and moans become real. The furrow on their brow results from the ropes and not any acting experience. The look of distress on their face is from knowing they are at their limit but still have more time to go. Seven to ten minutes is not a long time in most circumstances, but it is an absolute eternity while in strict bondage. They only want to lie there until it is over, but they know that struggling and struggling hard is the only avenue to release. They are uncomfortable and movement makes this worse, but it is the only way they can reach an end to the scene. That is the true predicament.

Image courtesy of That Sucked and You're an Asshole with Nyxon available at http://www.clips4sale.com/38048/9565387.

The safe word is not "GRNNMMPPHHHH!!!"

UNNGGAHL!

She had a bad feeling about things from the start but missed the chance to put a stop to it hours ago. She wore the same rope bonds now that she had worn for over five hours. Her arms were throbbing and her jaw ached. Sweat glistened on her smooth skin. She could barely move anymore. No amount of muffled pleas, screams or mewling brought any respite. Her glares only encouraged the same ass slapping that her lack of movement brought. Each time she tried to express her displeasure through furrowed brows, each time she tried to say "enough is enough" by stopping all movement the assault on her bared and exposed ass began again. One hard smack after another rained down on alternating cheeks until she screamed into her gag and began struggling again. She pulled the ropes deeper into her sensitized skin as she arched and twisted. She was exhausted but the stinging and burning from the most recent of eight harsh spankings proved a great motivator. Sweat dripped from the tip of her nose and she rocked back and forth on her stomach. How had she let it come to this? His idea for tonight's bondage challenge seemed a little strange, but the others were always fun. It is remarkable how much just one change can make to a girl's evening. They always used a safe word. It made all the discomfort and pain go away. She had only to utter one word clearly, and he would release her and take her to dinner. That should have happened over four hours ago. Why did she ask for a better gag? Her own words from the start of the evening ran through her mind. She was overconfident as always and demanded that they would sleep like this if she could not get out. She told him to not be soft. He was to tie her tighter than ever. The position should be something where she could barely move. She told him to not fall victim to her glares, to not be fooled by her big, brown eyes. That was when he stuffed the huge pair of panties into her mouth and taped them in place so tightly her eyes bulged. She gave up twenty minutes after they had started. All she had to do was say, "uncle." All that came out of those panties crammed into her face was, "unngahl." She said it over and over realizing that it was not the safe word. It was a garbled mash of nonsense. She became concerned and then panicked. She tried everything she could think off to get him to understand that she could not say the word. It was no use though. Her only choice was to keep struggling and hope that he would get bored. She struggled as he ate in front of her. She struggled as he watched television. She struggled as he got ready for bed. She struggled because each time she stopped the next spanking was worse that the one before. At least she could rest now. He going to sleep. She lay at the foot of the bed, sweaty, hurting and helpless. She moaned into her face full of panties. She had at least eight more hours of this ordeal ahead of her, so she put her head on the hard floor, closed her eyes and heard him say, "Kind of odd you picked a gag that made it impossible to say the safe word." With her eyes still closed the tape over her face shifted ever so slightly. If not for the darkness a smile could be seen underneath.

Image courtesy of He Put a Ring on Her Finger and Rope Around Everything Else with Enchantress Sahrye.

Rope, tape, more tape and ... struggle!

Just take my money and leave already!

She could not believe her eyes. He had already spent a good twenty minutes tying her, taping her, groping her and wedging things into face that mother nature never intended to fit into a mouth, and he pulls out a roll of duct tape. Her wet and reddened eyes bulged over that tape wrapped tightly around her face. She tried as best she could to gurgle anything comprehensible past the three-inch orb of hard rubber jammed into her mouth. She would give almost anything just to be able to clearly say enough already, but she could not. He took her advice to heart. She was unable to communicate anything and very helpless. It appeared that is was about to get much worse. The rope was more than enough to keep her out of trouble. It efficiently welded her legs together and crushed her arms behind her back. She was not even able to stop him when he began fondling her breasts. She hated him for that, but she knew it would happen. Who wouldn't sample such perfect tits once the owner was completely helpless? She chastised him more for principle than anything else which earned her the ballgag. It was so huge he had to rock it back and forth to fit it past her teeth. Even without the strap pulled to the very last notch she would never have been able to dislodge it. He took it one step further when he wrapped tape around her face several times. He pulled every wrapping as tight as possible, and it squeezed her face like a vice. She felt it a bit extreme to start taping over every rope with electrical tape, but he made a good point about hiding the knots. He was after all only taking her advice, so she couldn't be too upset about his innovation. The breast bondage did piss her off a bit though. Wrapping her tits up so tightly had nothing to do with preventing her escape. He was just being a pervert she thought. That brings things to the now. He held the duct tape in front of her and then starting wrapping. The loud noise of tape coming loose from the roll echoed through the room, drowning out her fervent and muffled protests. He covered all of her other bonds before completely taping her arms into a duct-tape glove. He even taped her arms to her chest and waist. He was really taking this much too far, and she was thankful that she had nothing left to be tied or taped. Or so she thought. Imagine her surprise when the stocking slipped over her head. She begged him with wide eyes to stop, but he taped it in place anyway. The duct tape encircled her mouth, her eyes and even went around her chin and head. She was blind, mostly mute and very, very helpless. It was only then that he whispered in her ear he would to send help in three hours. Three hours! What the hell man?!? Then again it was her idea. She came up with the idea to be tied up. As she thrashed on the couch and slid down to the floor she recalled how he robbed her and then wanted to lock her in the closet. She hated the dark and begged him to tie her up. He did not like the idea, but she persisted. As she writhed on the floor she cursed his ingenuity. How was she to know he could make a girl so helpless. How was she to know he would use everything he could find to make her more and more helpless? She rolled on her side and then tried to roll to her stomach. Extreme discomfort shot through her breasts and she immediately rolled back onto her side. The pain in her arms and breasts forced her to stay on her side and not move. That bastard! He was more than a pervert, he was a mastermind. The breast bondage and arm bondage made sure she would stay right there on the floor. He had plenty of time to make his escape. He could max out her credit cards, pawn off all of her valuable and most likely even get out of the state before anyone found her. She was in for a long night for sure and even worse ... she really had to pee.

I sometimes forget that I don't have to use everything when I shoot, but I can't help myself sometimes. JJ has remarkable flexibility and endurance which gives me so much time to keep adding and adding more and more. If I had not gagged her so tightly she probably could have gone hours like that, but that is the challenge. My tasks is to get her to a state where that last five to seven minutes of video is a challenge. We accomplished that, but it took most of the rope, most of the tape and the biggest ballgag I own!

Image courtesy of Tie Me, Gag Me, Just Don't Put Me in a Dark Closet with JJ Plush.

Nyxon is cold, and I don't just mean because her nipples are hard

Look up, look down, look all around ... yep, you're helpless!

She wanted to curse at him from her imposed darkness, but the panties packed into her mouth made every noise a muffled and gurgling string of nonsense. She had long since ceased swearing at him through the taste someone else's sex, but his chiding was incessant. "I can see up your skirt," he said which made her cringe. It seemed like such an easy challenge, but she had no idea he would take it so far. Ropes were one thing, but he then taped over them tightly with duct tape. She could get her hands to some of her bonds, but that tape made it impossible to get to any knots. It seemed even easier when he agreed to scissors. That is until her pulled the white stocking over her already gagged face and wrapped electrical tape over that. She was completely blind. The stocking and tape held her eyelids closed and blocked out any light. Despite that she managed to find the scissors by rolling about until she rolled over them. He agreed to scissors but not to adequate scissors. They were so dull they probably would not cut paper let alone a combined layer of rope and duct tape. She called him a mother-fucker at that point which came out something like, "Mumher huhher!" He played dumb and said, "What? You are feeling hot?" It was then he opened her top exposing her chest. She could now work on chaffing her nipples raw as well as her shoulders when she lolled about on the carpet. That is when she decided against making noises other than grunts and groans, but she would have to tap out at some point. She could not take it any longer. She felt chaffed, sore and useless as she made no headway with her bonds. "Uhnhll," she moaned. He did nothing. She repeated her admission of defeat. He still did nothing. "Uhnnhl, uhnhl, uhnhlllll uu mumhr huhrrr!" she spat out. To her shock he pulled her panties down. She thrashed and kicked as she heard the sounds of his cell phone's camera clicking away. Losing the challenge was bad enough but losing her dignity as well was infuriating. She would teach that son-of-a-bitch a lesson. As she as she was free she would make him agree to new challenge, and she would show him that his restraints were nothing. Yes, she would wipe that smile off his face ... just as soon as her decided to stop taking pictures of her exposed ass and let her go.

Sometimes I think I have a screw loose. I am fortunate enough to work with the most lovely ladies in the fetish industry. The are charming and limber. They spend hours on their hair and make-up to give me visions of female perfection. I am presented with a palette of style and beauty that would melt the heart of any damsel in distress fan. Nyxon is no different. She always looks stellar, and what do I do? I pull a stocking over her head and add so much tape nobody would recognize her. Perfect eyebrows, ruby red lips edged in flawless liner and a professionally blended eye shadow hidden for none to see. I cannot help myself though. There is something about using nylon squeezed tightly around a face that says helpless to me. There is something about shiny, black electrical tape that says a girl will stay put for as long as her captor needs. I do not enjoy encasing her head like a sausage, but I did love that I was sure she would be going nowhere!

Image courtesy of Tied, Taped and Taken - Part Two with Nyxon.

All-Natural Hand-Crafted Jute Rope for Sale

Dammit!!! These ropes don't slip!

I have been shooting for a long time now using my own hand-crafted rope. I find it gives me more flexibility than store-bought hemp rope. It is just far more workable and allows for a great natural fiber look with so much less hassle. I now make this rope available for purchase by anyone. The link below provides full details, but I will go over some of the highlights afterwards.

All-natural, hand-crafted Jute Rope

In the image Angelique models what I call Rope Pack #2 which contains 300 feet of 3-ply/4mm rope. I have three rope packs of varying lengths, and all rope is available in nine colors including natural tan. Natural tan and dark brown are the most popular colors. I use a rope-making process I developed myself that gives a tension on the rope that I prefer both for look, feel and consistency in images. Buying a rope pack is as easy as clicking one button, but I can also deliver custom orders that differ from the standard.

If you are in the market for a quality, hand-crafted product, or have any questions,  please contact me!

Always stretch before you shoot

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No dignity for the struggling

Putting your best foot forward

She knew that he was watching the entire thing. She could not see him, but she sensed his was there ogling her and waiting for those moments when her struggles revealed a glimpse of tit or ass. She had little choice though. He tied her securely with rope at first. Large bands of thin cord pinned her legs together and welded her elbows behind her back. He even made sure that her heels could not fall off by tying them to her feet. "We cannot have you hopping away now can we?" he joked as he knotted the rope. Her gag was just as brutal. He had stuffed a huge pair of panties in her mouth and secured them deep in her face by wrapping tape around her head. She only wore thongs, so it disgusted her to even think where he had gotten the undergarments packed into her mouth. He finished her bondage package with duct tape around every rope. Her hands started going numb almost immediately but on the off-chance her fingers still worked the tape covered every knot and made sure not ropes would be cut by the wriggling damsel. She was totally screwed. Her only option was to kick, arch and thrash as much as possible in the hope that something would miraculously come loose and allow her to start freeing herself. That had not happened yet though, and she had diminishing hope that it ever would. Her blouse had come open, her skirt has risen up and she felt his eyes on her, soaking in all her exposed glory. Her struggles had tired her, and sweat glistened off of her porcelain skin. Still she struggled. Her arms ached, and rug burns covered her shoulders and hips. Still she snuggled. It was all she could do. She was helpless, exposed and sure he was watching. Only the smallest of thong panties protected her most private dignity from his spying eyes, and he had told her that if she stopped struggling he would take those panties down to her knees. Her current state was shameful enough, she could not bear the thought of having to go through completely exposed!

It is always a blast to work with Nyxon. She knows exactly what to do when you tell her what the scene needs. All I had to do for image above was tell her that it was about high heels, long legs and but shots. She did the rest!

Image courtesy of Tied, Taped and Taken - Part Two with Nyxon available at http://www.clips4sale.com/38048/8872157.

Couches Are Not Alway Comfy

Try that on for size!

Her struggles had reduced noticeably since the beginning of her ordeal. At first she thought it was a typical burglary, the type of thing you see on television all the time. He was obviously only interested in money, so she did not feel too threatened as he began to tie her up. She would give him her widest eyes and plead for mercy. He would apologize for having to having to restraint her and then leave her to wriggle free of the loose ropes he bashfully applied. He was not bashful though, he was brazen. His confidence became clear after her hands were already tied. She thought the next rope was for her ankles, but he tied it around her waist. He then pulled it through her crotch, pulling it uncomfortably deep. She protested and received a huge ballgag strapped into her face as a reward. As she began to drool all over herself she began to think this man was no gentleman robber. The realization sunk in more as he pulled her arms together behind her back and tied them in place. He seemed far to skilled at this for just a bungling thief. Her hopes for etiquette ended when her tore open her blouse and fondled her bared breasts. She began to struggle now. It was not longer a game, it was all too real. She was already too helpless at this point to fight much let alone prevent her wrists from being drawn sharply to her ankles.  She felt concerned for the first time as she writhed helplessly on the couch, but he was not done. He pulled a stocking over her face and tape it in place. Before she could even wonder what they hosiery was for he pulled her head back to her elbows and tied the stocking off. She really started to struggle now. This was not lounging on the couch in a few ropes. This was not waiting demurely until someone arrived to help her free. This was true helplessness and extreme discomfort. She could already feel her fingers being to tingle and the stocking was crushing her nostrils. She could barely breathe. She could barely move. She should have resisted more in the beginning, but she misjudged his intentions entirely. He did not want her money. She struggled less and less as she tired and strained to breath. She could hear noises and knew he had no left her. She could not bear the thought of being left alone like this and actually felt a little relieved to know he was still around. Her relief faded though when she saw him pull in a four-wheel dolly with a platform about the size of a hogtied damsel. He indeed did not want her money. He wanted her, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it!

A component of predicament bondage that I enjoy is finding a point called "the suck." I first heard that term working with Nyxon, and I have used it ever since. There is a part of many restraints where things go from, "I can handle this" to, "holy shit, hurry up and get some footage." The model starts her timer and does whatever internal meditation they choose to get them through the next 5, 10, 15 or more minutes. It is literally a point where the model starts to hate the position and would want out right away if not for them being so damn awesome. I used to think it was when I tied the elbows, but this is not often the case. So many people are so flexible and mentally durable these days that they can go a long time after their elbows are tied. I have discovered though that a stocking on the head always brings "the suck." Most people do not like having their vision obscured. Even less like having the stocking against their nostrils. It just really puts someone into a much more helpless state. 

Image courtesy of Give Me the Codes PLEASE - Part Three with Illustrious Rouge available at http://www.clips4sale.com/38048/8432435.

Hannah's Lost Bondage Bet

Ten more minutes?!?!

How the hell was she going to get out of this? It had already been 20 minutes of struggling trussed up like a holiday goose, over an hour counting when that bastard start meticulously applying rope to her naked body. What kind of rope was this anyway? If felt like it had sand glued to it, like little saws were digging into her skin every time she moved. She could deal with it in general, but those ropes he pulled tightly into her crotch were becoming very difficult to deal with. There are just some things that you do not want prickly rope dragging back and forth against. She had precious few options though. The ropes held fast despite all of her efforts, and the numbness in her hands made her fingers useless. She was little more than a lump of glistening flesh and taught rope at this point. The ball from the harness gag was still deeply wedged into her mouth. It pried her jaws opening and the strain was cramping her jaw muscles. She could not even prevent drool from flowing freely down her face let alone form anything close to a coherent word. Her throat was hoarse as well. She tried periodically to attract attention to herself, but her noises became less and less noticeable. She doubted anyone in the next room could hear her at this point let alone someone passing by outside. The worst part was the blindfold. She had no idea where she was in the living room. The sensory deprivation made minutes seem like eternity. There were scissors and a cell phone only yards away, but she had no idea where they were. Even if she did she had no way of making her way to them. The only thing she could do was wiggle less and less as each minute passed. There was always a chance that her motion would loosen a knot or make a rope slip. Miracles happen right? She would arch or twist or kick her legs, and a flaw in this torturous restraint would surface. That minor flaw would be her chance to begin working her way to freedom. Just because the first 20 minutes had result in nothing did not mean that it could happen. Right, all of that active and fervent wriggling produced no results and her barest of motion now would make all the ropes unravel. She had lost. She had 40 more minutes to go, and she could do little more than rest on her side and wait for him to come back and collect his reward. All of her bragging about being able to escape anything meant nothing. Was he even still there? He had won the bet before the timer even started, and he probably just left his prize on the floor alone, helpless and waiting for collection an hour later. She had 40 minutes to go and no energy left. All she could do was curse herself for such bravado and contemplate agreeing to model for him free for the next five shoots. She had 40 minutes to wait and then 40 hours of free jacked bondage waiting for her. She was never going to make a bet ever again.

I started making my own natural fiber rope out of jute a while back. I try to rotate my hobbies to keep up interest and things that need physical dexterity are a form of meditation for me. I decided to try my hand at home-made rope-making, and I am very pleased with the results. As with anything new some poor girl becomes the test model for my new hobby. I had already used the rope on Angelique, and she described the rope as having "tiny knives" all over it. It was time for another "Hogtie from Hell" in the rotation, so Hannah received the full treatment. Fully nude there were no barriers between her skin and the scratchy rope. After hundreds of feet of prickly rope and a crotch rope pulled in tight she struggled non-stop. Every movement dragged against the rope, but she knew the rules. If she stopped moving I would add a minute every time until we reached an hour. Unfortunately for her I needed 20 minutes instead of my usual 7 for the challenge because of a custom request. Hannah was up to the task. She never stopped moving and thanks to a secure harness gag she never complained once ... at least not that I could make out through all that grunting and drool!

Image courtesy of Hannah's Hemp Hogtie Hell with Hannah Perez available at http://www.clips4sale.com/38048/8395541.

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.