This fetish blog loves Rope Rookie (roperookie.com). They make gas masks sexy. Amazing fetish photography, japanese rope bondage, and beautiful fetish models. You can’t go wrong. It’s a really unique site in a sea of porn. Check out Rope Rookie. It’s a rich archive of bondage photography.

From the blog of fetish model pornSLUTkitty Satine Phoenix.

Satine Phoenix is the sexiest fetish model ever to wear a gas mask.  Wired Pussy (wiredpussy.com) has her in a lesbian femdom scene, where she’s bound, teased, and forced to cum over and over. All through the power of electrostim. Using electricity to forced orgasms is what Wired Pussy is all about. It’s crazy sexy, and Satine Phoenix has done plenty of sessions to share with you. Enjoy.

Originally Posted On Whipped-Pussy Blog.

Beach Bound by Lochai

“BEACH BOUND”
AN EYE-OPENING VISIT TO THE EXTREME WORLD OF
AWARD-WINNING PHOTOGRAPHER LOCHAI,
SET TO OPEN MONDAY, AUGUST 4,
FOR A MONTH’S RUN AT WASHINGTON AVENUE’S
WORLD EROTIC ART MUSEUM

MIAMI BEACH—Continuing its mission to present the work of artists whose controversial subject matter frequently collide with what is generally considered to be acceptable parlor art, owner/collector Naomi Wilzig will present an exhibit by award-winning photographer, Lochai, Monday, August 4 through August 30, at the World Erotic Art Museum, 1205 Washington Ave.

An opening reception will be held Monday, August 4th  from 7 to 10 P.M.

Declaring he “shoots for the walls and not the computer screen,” Lochai’s images of bondage and fetish, have been published in The British Journal of Photography, Secret, Skin Two, Bizarre, Prometheus, Fetish Anthology and Extreme Anthology, as well as his own fine art coffee table books. In 2007, Lochai’s photo, “Beach Bound,” was judged by Erotic Signature as “The World’s Most Erotic Photograph.” Along with his runner-up images, “Alyssa Bound”, “Spider Brides” and “Curves”, “Beach Bound” appears in the collector’s edition of The World’s Greatest Erotic Art of Today, Volume 1 & 2.

Working with some of the world’s most beautiful models, Lochai, who along with Bobby Knight is a founding member and instructor of Pro Photo Tours (http://prophotours.com), finds his subject matter an opportunity to unleash the hidden truths and desires that lie not only in the persons of his models, but in the heart of his viewers.

Approximately thirty images will be on view, with Lochai planning to give a brief overview of his photographic work and bondage rigging using a female model during the opening night reception.

The World Erotic Art Museum is located at 1205 Washington Avenue.  Opens seven days from 11 A.M. to Midnight, admission is $15 per person.  Further information is available by calling (305) 532-9336 or online at www.weam.com.

This fetish blog loves Madison Young. In this medical gyno fetish scene from Sex and Submission (sexandsubmission.com), Madison Young must wear a latex hood, a Martin collar, and is subjected to a rigorous medical examination involving electro-stim, forced orgasms, cocksucking, caning, and lots of fucking. I’m impressed by the level, and authenticity of the fetish aspect of this essentially bondage scene. Sex and Submission is really outshining the other bondage and fetish sites at the moment, and anything with fetish model Madison Young is a guaranteed sexy time. God, I love redheads. Enjoy.

This fetish blog loves a perfect fetish scene. Whipped Pussy (whipped-pussy.com) has an intense, but fantastic flogging scene. Whipped Pussy is a site that keeps growing on me. It’s the fact that it’s a notch rougher than Kink.com, is what I think gets me. If you have a spanking fetish, or an affinity for flogging, take a look at Whipped Pussy. They have an archive of the finest bondage sessions, with top notch fetish models like Claire Adams, that goes back years. Enjoy.

There are so many ways to begin a story. I could begin at the beginning, reciting from memory the first meeting that started it all. That’s the most logical but so boring. I could drop you into the middle of a scene between two players without any explanation, and if I had the skill enough, keep your attention while you try to figure out what is really going on. Very Shakespearean, but rather risky. Or I could just take the simplest route, and make an introduction- tell you more about me. I’ve chosen to take this path. No need for dramatics- I’ll save those for other stories. So, hi. I’m a submissive who’s just been introduced to gasmasks, and who is madly in lust with her Dominant.

But this article isn’t just about gasmasks, or the fact that my Dom can make me wet with one raise of an eyebrow. It’s also about the imperative of trust. As a submissive, you’re allowing another person full control over your mind and body. You become their puppet both physically and emotionally. Want me to stand just so? Remove my clothes? Straddle that bench? Allow you to whip me till I’m bleeding? How about I give you a blow job? Tell me how you like it and if I don’t do it right, feel free to thrust your cock down my throat so far that I gag. Hell, do that anyway. I’ll admit it, I like it. Don’t fall for it when I show you teary eyes and a reproachful look, as if to say “How could you do that to me?” I’m eating it up. Show me what you’ve got; I’m ready.

Okay, okay, I’m getting carried away. Point is as a submissive I allow myself to become a marionette to the whims of my Dom, because I enjoy it. But that level of submission is not attainable if you don’t trust your Dom. My story of gasmasks is a perfect example. When you have a fear of enclosed spaces like I do- it takes an inordinate amount of trust to agree to strap one onto your head. Only he could entice me to do it. Well, him and the promise of a mind blowing orgasm at the end of it. Here, let me set the stage for you.

So there I am, straddling a caning bench, legs tied to either side and hands tied to the front. My face is being pressed down into the leather by my Dom, facing away from him. He’s growling under his breath and I’m letting loose the occasional yelp as his hand connects with my backside. Damn, that man always knows just how hard to hit me to shock me. It’s always just a bit more than I was expecting, whatever level we are currently at. Despite the pain and surprise, I always find myself arching my back to push into his hand, exposing myself more, begging for him to make contact again. I want him to hurt me. I love it. I’m such a little slut for him. I know it. I’m not ashamed.

Suddenly his hand is pushing down harder the back of my neck, until my cheekbone smarts against the leather. He’s leaning over me and I feel his breath on my shoulder. All of my hair is standing on end. What’s coming next?

“You okay with breath play? Asphyxiation?” He asks me. God, that voice! Low and gravelly and pure alpha male. It never fails to get to me. It sends tingles down my spine and I almost giggle, suddenly envisioning Goldilocks being held down and ravaged by the Big Bad Wolf. On the surface he’s being polite, letting me set my boundaries, and if I say no, he won’t push it. But he has a way of saying things that makes them a command, and I want to obey. I know I will be missing out if I say no. I want to give him whatever he wants. I’m not sure what he has in mind, and I don’t care as long as he’s the one doing it to me.

“Yes.” I answer in a gasp.

He gives me a little shake and I whimper with longing. I realize I’m grinding my pubic bone into the leather bench.

“You’re sure?”

Am I sure? Sudden doubt fills me. He must have something bigger in mind than just strangling me to ask if I’m sure. (Which by the way I love. His hand- my throat… a match made in heaven.) What am I signing up for? I think about it for a split second and decide I don’t care. I’m right where I want to be.

Yes.”

“Don’t turn around.” He releases me and disappears. It’s always a curious place to reach when he does that. He’s done it to me before. It never gets old. I’m not supposed to turn around. I have no idea where he is or what he’s doing. I hear strange sounds but cannot place what they could be. The wheels in my head are spinning. I can feel my heart thudding against the beam I’m resting on. My legs are tied to either side so that I’m totally exposed from behind, fully opened to him, and I’m acutely feeling my own vulnerability. I’m so accessible to him in this position. It embarrasses and excites me all at once. It’s making me blush even now, just thinking about it. It’s like that dream where you can’t turn around to see the monster you know is sneaking up behind you. Any second now he’s going to grab you. Except in this situation, the monster is unbearably sexy and you’re going to cum like a train wreck when he grabs you.

He’s back. Again those rough, wonderful, brutal hands are directing me- this time to lift my head, and he’s thrusting my face into a gasmask. That’s not what I was expecting. For a second I balk and he feels it. His grip loosens just a fraction. He’s letting me decide. I’m scared. I don’t know if I can handle being that enclosed- to have my air supply that controlled. A hand can release my throat at any moment. A gas mask…. He’s going to have to unbuckle it to get it off me and when you’re panicking, every second is horrible. This whole exchange takes only a moment, and then I’m pushing my face forward, silently acquiescing to his demands. Yes, I’ll do it. I trust him. I want him. I’m his. Bring it on.

Best decision I ever made.

He kneels down before me so we’re eye level, tightening the straps over my head. With every tug it’s getting harder to draw a breath. I train my eyes on his face- eyes that I know must be huge with trepidation and lust- the quintessential deer in headlights. But he’s not looking at me.

“Breathe…” He commands me, his attention on his hands, and I draw a deep, labored breath so he can hear I’m not suffocating. Well, not really. I’m fighting a mad urge to shake my head- like a tethered wild horse. “Breathe….”

And then, just as he’s getting up, he shoots me one look straight in the eye; dark, severe, and full of intent. I am looking at the Devil. I feel the shock of contact down to my toes. Oh my God, I am really in for it. Then he’s out of my range of sight and my last comfort- the familiarity of his face- is gone. I’m trapped inside the mask, fighting to pull in a full breath, and my body has become his playground. Every sense I have is trained fully on him standing behind me. His hands are pulling me- spreading me open for his pleasure. I’m blushing so hard that my cheeks are burning but it doesn’t matter, because nobody can see it. I’ve become an object. I am a toy. He touches me and I communicate by thrusting myself against his hand. More… More… More… I’m pleading using pure body language.

Whack! I jerk when the flogger hits me. My hips are rolling of their own volition.

“Say ‘Thank you Sir’ when I hit you.” He orders. I whisper the words, but they are lost in the mask.

Whack!

“I can’t hear you!”

“Thank you Sir!” I yell. I’m struggling to enunciate so he can hear me. It comes out muffled and slightly panicked. His mouth is probing me now and I’m writhing in absolute ecstasy beneath it.

The intensity of our play overwhelms me. I’m in tears beneath the mask. He is waging full out war and I am his battleground. The limited oxygen is making my whole body tingle, so every sensation is amplified a hundred times. Then he reaches up and covers the mask with his hand, cutting off my air supply completely. I’m still for a few seconds, holding my breath, but the need for oxygen asserts itself quickly and I suck in desperately, feeling the mask tighten around my face. There’s no air. Again fear surges to the surface and my body struggles against the bonds that hold me still. He hardens perversely inside me in response and drives into me deeper. I grind back against him, taking him in. For a moment I wish I was a fly on the wall so I could see myself as he must see me- bound, naked, vulnerable and struggling.

“Oh, Good Girl…” He rumbles, and I find myself spinning into another orgasm. I can’t remember how many I’ve had already. He releases the mask and I gulp in sweet air, sobbing.

When it’s over, I’m exhausted. I’ve been violated every possible way and loved every minute of it. I lie loosely in my bonds, draped over the bench like a discarded doll. Only my ribcage is moving- desperately sucking in air, trying to still my racing heart. He’s trailing his fingers over my back gently, and it feels like I’m being brushed with the tips of cigarettes. Every nerve is alive to him. When he loosens the buckles and allows me to pull off the mask, it’s a relief and a disappointment all at once. I’m utterly spent but it’s so difficult- returning to myself from the highly sexual object I’d become over the last hour. Then my hot face emerges into the cooler air, and I sigh, closing my eyes. He’s untying the ropes. I lay my cheek against the leather and relax into his care.

It takes an hour for me to stop shaking. The next day, I wake up and run my fingers over the bruises on my wrists and legs, enjoying the thrill of remembering. Two days later, I’m still marveling at the direction the scene took, and how completely I trusted my Dom. I listen to my friends’ stories of mishaps, misplaced trust, and regrets, and I realize how lucky I am to have found the situation that I have.

And now, I’ve reached the end of my story. Again, there are so many ways I could wrap it up. But frankly I’m still exhausted- still processing- and I’ve reached the end of my cleverness for the day. So I’ll give it to you straight. Yes, I am now a huge fan of gasmasks. But I’m particular as to whom I will allow to strap one on me. Surrendering to the objectification and deprivation of your body on that level is a very personal thing. So if I’ve moved you by my story- if you’ve found yourself squirming in your chair and wishing you could duplicate my experience- the best advice I can give you is make sure you find a partner with whom you have the same level of connection. Trust is essential. Make sure your Dom (or you, if you are the Dom) knows what they’re doing and that they have the appropriate level of concern for your well being, both physical and emotional. Oxygen deprivation can be dangerous if not taken seriously. If you have all of those elements you’re going to have one hell of a good time. Take pictures. Or video. Or hell, write an article. I want to hear all about it. Tell me a story….

Become A Patron Of The Arts!  Support Lochai!!

It’s no secret that I have a ridiculous crush on Lochai, and maybe a part of it is because I fell in love with his work as an artist.  On top of all that I got to actually meet him yesterday and put my hands on his…  prints (I know what you thought I was going to say!)

I know a lot of my readers are people who share my opinion about Lochai’s erotic and bondage images and also share my belief in supporting the art and the artists they love.  That’s what this post is all about.  Your opportunity to own real art while supporting the arts. It’s a win-win situation.

Lochai has a few gallery shows coming up.  He talks about them in the interview we did recently here. In response to my question about his upcoming gallery shows, in particular the exhibition at the World Erotic Art Museum in Miami Beach, FL, this is what he had to say:

Wow….  To hang in a Museum is an amazing thing.  To hang in this Museum is even a greater compliment in that the owner/curator, Naomi Wilzig, does not normally collect photography & has only just started to.  She has thousands of painting, sculptures and other various articles that have moved her over the years and only a few photographs including ones from a good friend of mine, BT Charles.  She has had many one person displays exhibited in the galleries in the 3 years WEAM has been open, but she asked me to be the first photographer.  I am also a local so this adds to the pride I feel.  Art gallery shows are wonderful but to say that you are displayed in a museum, for me that is something I am very proud of.  I will also have Beach Bound added to the permanent collection. I was also the first heterosexual male artist to have a special “Guest Gallery” show that lasted a year of 30 of my images in the Leather Archives & Museum in Chicago http://www.leatherarchives.org/ which just came down in May.

So now here we are, it’s almost time for Lochai’s big show and now it’s time for me to get involved in the only way I know how.  I’m holding my own Lochai Pledge Drive to help support Lochai’s upcoming gallery projects.  He has never done this before and he may never do this again, it’s truly exclusive (and it will give your grandkids something to bring onto The Antique’s Roadshow!) Think of it is the kinky version of the PBS Pledge Drive - you know, you donate some money and they give you a nice gift to say thank you.

Here’s the rundown - you donate to Lochai’s upcoming shows.  Donations are simple and easy - log into PayPal and use Lochai’s email address (nawalochai@kirinawa.com).  You can even use your credit card.  In return, as a thank-you gift, you receive one of Lochai’s signed prints.  The print you will receive will be chosen by Lochai and is from his award-winning gallery.

Donate $25 and receive a signed 4×6 print.  This is perfect to frame and put on your nightstand

Donate $50 and receive a signed 5×7 print.  This is a perfect size to have on your desk, no?

Donate $75 and receive two signed 5 x 7 prints - a nice little complimentary set for your boudoir.  I love the idea of having two complimentary, beautiful images, nicely framed and hung next to each other.  MDS says he thinks it would be neat if you’re a couple to frame them and then put one on each of your nightstands.  I love MDS.  He’s so clever!

If you donate $75 or more, Beach Bound will be one of the 2 5×7 prints… ;-)

Donate $100 and receive one signed 8×10 print - perfect to hang on the wall.  Actually Lochai gave me an 8×10 as a gift yesterday and it’s matted, framed, and perfectly placed on my desk, so an 8×10 is really a nice size - you can hang it or place it somewhere special.

For donations more generous than $100.00, please contact Lochai directly.   Those donors will be considered sponsors and will not only have their name associated with the show as a sponsor, but as a thank-you gift will receive a signed 5×7 Beach Bound, as well as a signed, limited edition print (of your choice).  Again, just contact Lochai directly to discuss this option.  He’s a very friendly man!

This fetish blog loves Anna Rose. She’s a slave girl, she’s a pony girl, a fetish model,and a Gord girl. In this image from Slave Girl Anna Rose (alterpic.com), we see her in stockings, shackles, a beautiful corset and a full enclosure, inflatable rubber hood. The sensory deprivation fans should take note. Her content is incredibly sexy, kinky, and innovative. Anna Rose. You should also visit her pony girl site. Enjoy.

Originally Posted On Marky D. Sade’s Bondage Blog. Lovingly reposted here.

Goddamnit, this is hot. One of my favorite fetish models, January Seraph has a new femdom site. Inescapable Bondage (inescapablebondage.com) her newest site. January is a sweet person, very smart, but with a tenderness that shows through, even when she is a domme. This isn’t to say that she’s not bad ass. She is, but her style is still feminine, and graceful. She doesn’t feel the need to become a stereotype when being her strong, sexy, assertive self suffices. Anyway, this is just a quick post, as a means to introduce you to Inescapable Bondage. I’ll do a full review later. Enjoy.