http://www.francoisdubeau.com/portfolio-mainpa.html
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Artist of the day - Francois Dubeau
I wanted to mention that I found a great erotic artist named Francois Dubeau. His simple ink drawings are amazingly sexy and elegant. Despite using an economy of lines and lots of empty white space, his pictures manage to make you think are looking at the outlines of astoundingly beautiful women. Check out his website.
http://www.francoisdubeau.com/portfolio-mainpa.html
http://www.francoisdubeau.com/portfolio-mainpa.html
Thursday, November 29, 2007
How Taboo Magazine "Made Me" A Perv
Looking back, it is clear to me that my taste for bondage existed long before I was a teenager and even had a very clear idea about sex and sexuality. However, my taste for kink really only became a conscious choice after I discovered Taboo magazine and screwed up the guts to buy my first issue in 2001. This was my very first introduction to straight forward fetish pornography. At the time, for me, Taboo was the ultimate level of high production value bondage. Photographers like Suze Randall churned out set-piece pictorials that created bright, technically slick pictorials of beautiful and stylized kink. The heels were high, lips glossy, the latex couture hot, and the poses raunchy. There were no pretensions towards subtle eroticism, but I wasn't complaining. To my mind, the following latex pin-up girl epitomizes the Suze Randall style of pictorial.
Of course since I am travelling down memory lane, I can't help but point out that my absolute favorite models was the incomparable blond Kelle and redhead Swan. Hare are some images from my favorite pictorials of 2002. Maybe it's nostalgia for my early formative fetish years, but to this day they remain my favorite latex fantasy models. And I know you won't believe it, but part of the fantasy is that I imagine these are women I would love to have conversations with. Don't laugh. I'm serious. Multi-level relationships are the best..jpg)
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It's also worth saying that Taboo provide me with my first photographic visuals of kinks that would eventually loom very large as sexual fantasy triggers. In fact, the following images from a 2001 pictorial of a bondage wedding is quite significant in my sexual development. This was my very first introduction to butt plugs and anal sex. The juxtaposition of the virginal bride and nasty hot bondage sex still gets me every time. 
Of course, even good things come to an end eventually. Like Saturday Night Live, even the sublime eventually decays into the absurd. I had a good run with Taboo and it influenced me greatly in developing my interest in bondage as an aesthetic appreciation. But that really could only blossom further by finding porn that specialized in rope bondage.
By about 2004, Taboo for me became a little boring. The pictorials seemed less exotic and artful. But if Saturday Night Live can manage a funny sketch once in a blue moon, Taboo can sometimes still get my blood racing. So let's end things on a up note. The following image comes from a pictorial that used a model named Audrey. I find her compelling. You may have your own opinions of course, but what I like about these pictures is her pale skin and her red fuck-doll lips. Plus, these pictures have a lively torrid quality. And it's not just the hair pulling. The lighting and dark clothing definitely appeal to my inner goth. Bottom line: I'd be a lucky Dom to find a lovely pervey maiden willing to let her mouth and ass be violated in such a manner.
Of course since I am travelling down memory lane, I can't help but point out that my absolute favorite models was the incomparable blond Kelle and redhead Swan. Hare are some images from my favorite pictorials of 2002. Maybe it's nostalgia for my early formative fetish years, but to this day they remain my favorite latex fantasy models. And I know you won't believe it, but part of the fantasy is that I imagine these are women I would love to have conversations with. Don't laugh. I'm serious. Multi-level relationships are the best.
It's also worth saying that Taboo provide me with my first photographic visuals of kinks that would eventually loom very large as sexual fantasy triggers. In fact, the following images from a 2001 pictorial of a bondage wedding is quite significant in my sexual development. This was my very first introduction to butt plugs and anal sex. The juxtaposition of the virginal bride and nasty hot bondage sex still gets me every time. Of course, even good things come to an end eventually. Like Saturday Night Live, even the sublime eventually decays into the absurd. I had a good run with Taboo and it influenced me greatly in developing my interest in bondage as an aesthetic appreciation. But that really could only blossom further by finding porn that specialized in rope bondage.By about 2004, Taboo for me became a little boring. The pictorials seemed less exotic and artful. But if Saturday Night Live can manage a funny sketch once in a blue moon, Taboo can sometimes still get my blood racing. So let's end things on a up note. The following image comes from a pictorial that used a model named Audrey. I find her compelling. You may have your own opinions of course, but what I like about these pictures is her pale skin and her red fuck-doll lips. Plus, these pictures have a lively torrid quality. And it's not just the hair pulling. The lighting and dark clothing definitely appeal to my inner goth. Bottom line: I'd be a lucky Dom to find a lovely pervey maiden willing to let her mouth and ass be violated in such a manner.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Original Story: Basement Slave Training - Part 1
By C.M.Tyssen 2007
It was pitch black and Pauline had no idea where she was or exactly how much time had passed. She suspected it was a basement, however. There was a smell of damp cement and a slight chill in the air. The only thing that was certain was this: her limbs were immobilized. She seemed to be on her back, spread-eagle and tied to a bed. Pauline could hear creaking bed springs as she shifted and smell the mustiness of an old mattress. She also realized that she couldn’t close her mouth. A wide leather gag covered her mouth. But what was worse was that the gag held something firmly in her mouth.
Pauline’s lips were locked around something wide, cylindrical and hard. It filled Pauline’s mouth and it gave her tongue little room to move. But even if the gag did prevent Pauline from enunciating words, she could still make sounds. So she tried an interrogative moan. Maybe somebody would hear her? To her surprise she heard a muffled “MMMM” sound in response. Of course, Pauline still couldn’t see. Nor could she exactly locate the direction of the sound. But it did seem to come from within Pauline’s basement. Another slave? Probably. And truth be told, knowing she wasn’t alone in the dark reassured Pauline somehow. But that feeling didn’t last long. Apparently somebody had heard the noises being made by the prisoners. The muffled sound of slow, purposeful footsteps could be heard. Seconds passed and then Pauline heard the squeal of unseen door hinges opening and closing. And with a click, the basement was illuminated with the dim light of a single naked bulb that hung from a ceiling wire near the previously unseen door.
Turning her head to towards the light, Pauline immediately understood that she was now probably looking at the Jailer. She’d never actually met him before. Apparently, he was a loner who never attended any of the local play parties. But the Doms of the BDSM community liked to send him their misbehaving submissives for slave training. Weirdly, none of the subs who emerged from the Jailer's clutches ever talked about what happened. That fact alone made the Jailer scary… but it also made Pauline insanely curious. Was this the kind of man who could introduce her to taboos she didn’t even know existed? Did he know how to make a sub feel deliciously dirty? The mystery sparked fantasies...
And so in the end, Pauline engineered for herself a visit to the Jailer. Pauline deliberately provoked her own Dom with little acts of disobedience. And finally after weeks of feigned exasperation with her lack of discipline, her Dom decided it was time to send her to the expected slave training specialist: the Jailer.
It is common knowledge that being a sub does not mean you are giving up control over the situation. But right this minute, she didn't feel even a shred of control. In the dark of this musty basement, Pauline couldn’t help but remember that a person should be wary of what they wish for… because the Jailer seriously unnerved her. Pauline couldn’t see much beyond his silhouetted black outline. The man had moved far enough into the room so that the swinging bare bulb was now behind him. And this ensured that everything facing Pauline would remain in black shadow. He was of medium height and build, but beyond that, the only detail she could make out was the outline of a riding crop in one hand and a duffel bag in the other. At this point, Pauline also became aware of the other slave. Again, she could only make out an outline and no features, but Pauline could tell that it was a woman. She was mounted on a dungeon sawhorse: two sets of A-shaped legs joined by a thickly padded, horizontal board. The woman lay on her stomach. Two thick leather straps tied her torso to the pad. Her legs and arms seemed to be stretched down towards the ground and securely manacled and chained to the legs of the sawhorse. This other prisoner seemed to be naked, although the dim light did seem to be dimly reflecting off the outline of some patent leather ballet-style boots with insanely high heels.
The Jailer approached with leisurely steps. He was probably savoring the sight of what he beheld. As soon as he reached the other prisoner, he brought the crop down, hard, on the woman’s ass. She reacted with a sharp “Ugh!” sound. Her back arched and this set her dangling breasts to swaying as her startled body jerked against its manacles. A little metallic tinkling sound was also heard. Pauline suspected little bells had been clamped to the woman’s naked nipples. The Jailer leaned over and removed the other slave’s gag. As it was pulled away, Pauline could make out that a three-inch black penis was attached to the underside. And as this fake cock was pulled out of the prisoner’s helpless mouth, the light caught a thin silver stream of saliva spilling onto the concrete floor. Squatting in front of her face, the Jailer reached out with both hands to remove the bells dangling from the woman's nipple clamps. She gasped as blood began to painful circulate through her engorged nipples. Next, only using thumb and forefinger, he pinched and massaged her nipples. The woman's nipples were over-sensitized and she twisted her head from side to side. Pauline couldn't tell if it was from pleasure or pain.
Eventually, the Jailer spoke to the other slave. “I want to reward you for being such an obedient whore,” he began. “My friends very much enjoyed defiling your pretty mouth and face with their cocks last night. You might be ready to graduate from the Dungeon, after all. So I have a reward for you. Do you want to be a Pleasure Pig or a Pain Slut? You may answer me, now slut.”
“Sir, I want to be a Pleasure Pig, Sir.”
The Jailer considered this. Standing upright, he walked back around to the woman’s round, vulnerable ass. At first he brushed his fingers lightly down the curve of her back, stimulating her endorphins and coaxing little shivers of pleasure from the slave. And as he positioned himself behind her open legs, these fingers trailed over her round ass, down her crack, fluttering briefly over her anus and then inserting themselves smoothly into her sex. “You’re wet,” he commented without emotion.
He reached forward, grabbed a fistful of the slave’s hair. And while pulling her head up and back with one hand, he used the other to expertly masturbate the helpless slave. The slave moaned in appreciation as his fingers swirled around her clit. And as she grew more excited, the Jailer penetrated her with his fingers, brushing the slave’s G-spot. As the moments passed, her hands and feet strained against the cuffs. The intensity of feeling was causing the slave’s body to undulate in pleasure. The slave's moans and breathless gasps became sharper and louder. Her head began to thrash from side to side, but the Jailer kept a firm grip on her hair.
Suddenly the Jailer barked out: “Don’t cum without my permission!”
“Ooooh! Oh please, let me cum, Sir!” the poor slave managed to gasp.
“Are you a whore? Does the whore want to cum? Beg for it like you mean it!” The Jailer demanded.
“Yes, I’m a whore, Sir,” the slave almost screamed. And then a long high-pitched moan escaped her lips as she lost any ability to suppress the orgasm coursing through her body. Quick as lightning, the Jailer reacted by slapped her ass hard with an open palm. The surprise and pain caused her entire body to clench. And as intended, this only hightened the exquisite pain of feeling the Jailer brutally jam a well lubricated finger into her quivering ass.
“You were doing so well, dirty little slut” the Jailer explained. As the slave began to whimper piteously, he slipped a second finger into her ass. “But then you had to cum without waiting for my permission first. Break the rules and you get punished. It’s that simple.”
The man continued to massage and stretched her backdoor hole. Reaching down into his duffel bag, the Jailer pulled out a very large anal plug. He greased it with lubricant and firmly inserted the bulbous plug into her ass. Despite the pain, the slave submitted. Other than grimacing and making a mewling “ow! ow! ow!” sound at the roughness of the penetration, the slave made no further protest. She only managed to hang her head in exhaustion from the orgasm. Her back was glistening with sweat. Her butt and thighs were slick with the mess of her own juices.
“I haven't forgotten about you, little pony.” Pauline gave a start as she realized the man was talking to her. Her mouth went dry and the plastic cock held in her mouth by the gag tasted bitter. The Jailer approached and stood at the foot of Pauline’s bed. “I’ve been told that you're disobediant and willful. Your Master told me to break you in like a horse. I look forward to training you.”
Pauline felt her heart rate pick up with a mixture of both nervousness and arousal. She was hyper-aware of the tightness of her own cuffs that tied her to the creaking bed; the hardness of her perky nipples and the increasing wetness of her cunt. She was looking forward to training, too...
To be continued.
It was pitch black and Pauline had no idea where she was or exactly how much time had passed. She suspected it was a basement, however. There was a smell of damp cement and a slight chill in the air. The only thing that was certain was this: her limbs were immobilized. She seemed to be on her back, spread-eagle and tied to a bed. Pauline could hear creaking bed springs as she shifted and smell the mustiness of an old mattress. She also realized that she couldn’t close her mouth. A wide leather gag covered her mouth. But what was worse was that the gag held something firmly in her mouth.
Pauline’s lips were locked around something wide, cylindrical and hard. It filled Pauline’s mouth and it gave her tongue little room to move. But even if the gag did prevent Pauline from enunciating words, she could still make sounds. So she tried an interrogative moan. Maybe somebody would hear her? To her surprise she heard a muffled “MMMM” sound in response. Of course, Pauline still couldn’t see. Nor could she exactly locate the direction of the sound. But it did seem to come from within Pauline’s basement. Another slave? Probably. And truth be told, knowing she wasn’t alone in the dark reassured Pauline somehow. But that feeling didn’t last long. Apparently somebody had heard the noises being made by the prisoners. The muffled sound of slow, purposeful footsteps could be heard. Seconds passed and then Pauline heard the squeal of unseen door hinges opening and closing. And with a click, the basement was illuminated with the dim light of a single naked bulb that hung from a ceiling wire near the previously unseen door.
Turning her head to towards the light, Pauline immediately understood that she was now probably looking at the Jailer. She’d never actually met him before. Apparently, he was a loner who never attended any of the local play parties. But the Doms of the BDSM community liked to send him their misbehaving submissives for slave training. Weirdly, none of the subs who emerged from the Jailer's clutches ever talked about what happened. That fact alone made the Jailer scary… but it also made Pauline insanely curious. Was this the kind of man who could introduce her to taboos she didn’t even know existed? Did he know how to make a sub feel deliciously dirty? The mystery sparked fantasies...
And so in the end, Pauline engineered for herself a visit to the Jailer. Pauline deliberately provoked her own Dom with little acts of disobedience. And finally after weeks of feigned exasperation with her lack of discipline, her Dom decided it was time to send her to the expected slave training specialist: the Jailer.
It is common knowledge that being a sub does not mean you are giving up control over the situation. But right this minute, she didn't feel even a shred of control. In the dark of this musty basement, Pauline couldn’t help but remember that a person should be wary of what they wish for… because the Jailer seriously unnerved her. Pauline couldn’t see much beyond his silhouetted black outline. The man had moved far enough into the room so that the swinging bare bulb was now behind him. And this ensured that everything facing Pauline would remain in black shadow. He was of medium height and build, but beyond that, the only detail she could make out was the outline of a riding crop in one hand and a duffel bag in the other. At this point, Pauline also became aware of the other slave. Again, she could only make out an outline and no features, but Pauline could tell that it was a woman. She was mounted on a dungeon sawhorse: two sets of A-shaped legs joined by a thickly padded, horizontal board. The woman lay on her stomach. Two thick leather straps tied her torso to the pad. Her legs and arms seemed to be stretched down towards the ground and securely manacled and chained to the legs of the sawhorse. This other prisoner seemed to be naked, although the dim light did seem to be dimly reflecting off the outline of some patent leather ballet-style boots with insanely high heels.
The Jailer approached with leisurely steps. He was probably savoring the sight of what he beheld. As soon as he reached the other prisoner, he brought the crop down, hard, on the woman’s ass. She reacted with a sharp “Ugh!” sound. Her back arched and this set her dangling breasts to swaying as her startled body jerked against its manacles. A little metallic tinkling sound was also heard. Pauline suspected little bells had been clamped to the woman’s naked nipples. The Jailer leaned over and removed the other slave’s gag. As it was pulled away, Pauline could make out that a three-inch black penis was attached to the underside. And as this fake cock was pulled out of the prisoner’s helpless mouth, the light caught a thin silver stream of saliva spilling onto the concrete floor. Squatting in front of her face, the Jailer reached out with both hands to remove the bells dangling from the woman's nipple clamps. She gasped as blood began to painful circulate through her engorged nipples. Next, only using thumb and forefinger, he pinched and massaged her nipples. The woman's nipples were over-sensitized and she twisted her head from side to side. Pauline couldn't tell if it was from pleasure or pain.
Eventually, the Jailer spoke to the other slave. “I want to reward you for being such an obedient whore,” he began. “My friends very much enjoyed defiling your pretty mouth and face with their cocks last night. You might be ready to graduate from the Dungeon, after all. So I have a reward for you. Do you want to be a Pleasure Pig or a Pain Slut? You may answer me, now slut.”
“Sir, I want to be a Pleasure Pig, Sir.”
The Jailer considered this. Standing upright, he walked back around to the woman’s round, vulnerable ass. At first he brushed his fingers lightly down the curve of her back, stimulating her endorphins and coaxing little shivers of pleasure from the slave. And as he positioned himself behind her open legs, these fingers trailed over her round ass, down her crack, fluttering briefly over her anus and then inserting themselves smoothly into her sex. “You’re wet,” he commented without emotion.
He reached forward, grabbed a fistful of the slave’s hair. And while pulling her head up and back with one hand, he used the other to expertly masturbate the helpless slave. The slave moaned in appreciation as his fingers swirled around her clit. And as she grew more excited, the Jailer penetrated her with his fingers, brushing the slave’s G-spot. As the moments passed, her hands and feet strained against the cuffs. The intensity of feeling was causing the slave’s body to undulate in pleasure. The slave's moans and breathless gasps became sharper and louder. Her head began to thrash from side to side, but the Jailer kept a firm grip on her hair.
Suddenly the Jailer barked out: “Don’t cum without my permission!”
“Ooooh! Oh please, let me cum, Sir!” the poor slave managed to gasp.
“Are you a whore? Does the whore want to cum? Beg for it like you mean it!” The Jailer demanded.
“Yes, I’m a whore, Sir,” the slave almost screamed. And then a long high-pitched moan escaped her lips as she lost any ability to suppress the orgasm coursing through her body. Quick as lightning, the Jailer reacted by slapped her ass hard with an open palm. The surprise and pain caused her entire body to clench. And as intended, this only hightened the exquisite pain of feeling the Jailer brutally jam a well lubricated finger into her quivering ass.
“You were doing so well, dirty little slut” the Jailer explained. As the slave began to whimper piteously, he slipped a second finger into her ass. “But then you had to cum without waiting for my permission first. Break the rules and you get punished. It’s that simple.”
The man continued to massage and stretched her backdoor hole. Reaching down into his duffel bag, the Jailer pulled out a very large anal plug. He greased it with lubricant and firmly inserted the bulbous plug into her ass. Despite the pain, the slave submitted. Other than grimacing and making a mewling “ow! ow! ow!” sound at the roughness of the penetration, the slave made no further protest. She only managed to hang her head in exhaustion from the orgasm. Her back was glistening with sweat. Her butt and thighs were slick with the mess of her own juices.
“I haven't forgotten about you, little pony.” Pauline gave a start as she realized the man was talking to her. Her mouth went dry and the plastic cock held in her mouth by the gag tasted bitter. The Jailer approached and stood at the foot of Pauline’s bed. “I’ve been told that you're disobediant and willful. Your Master told me to break you in like a horse. I look forward to training you.”
Pauline felt her heart rate pick up with a mixture of both nervousness and arousal. She was hyper-aware of the tightness of her own cuffs that tied her to the creaking bed; the hardness of her perky nipples and the increasing wetness of her cunt. She was looking forward to training, too...
To be continued.
Friday, August 24, 2007
Birthday Present to Myself
It's my birthday and I feel like rewarding myself with some of my favorite bondage pics. What's not to like? The model looks so very similar to my sub, Simone. Furthermore, I have a weakness for thigh-highs, and the model has both great hair and great heels. Just as importantly, I like the rope work displayed here. The photographer is using a hemp, but I actually prefer to use polyester blend ropes. (By the way: a great source for poly blend rope is The Sub-shop. http://www.sub-shop.com/)
And did I mention how sexy I think her nipple piercing are? You can see them in the top picture. (Feel free to enlarge the image by clicking on it.)
Sigh. I have to admit that I would find it devastatingly sexy if Simone were to ever get her nipples pierced. Although, I do respect her lack of interest. It's hard to put my finger on why, but with some people, piercing seems natural and an honest fit with their personality. Other times it just looks as if they were trying too hard and it looks like affectation.
So what's your favorite style? Do you like rings or barbells better? Personally, my vote goes to barbells. They look sleek and simply elegant to me. Of course, I wouldn't necessaily turn away a nipple ring either. It would be exciting to lead around a lovely little sub by small chains attached to her nipple rings. Any takers out there?
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Model of the Day: Aimee Sweet
This picture is from one of my favorite photo series. The props I especially like are the nipple clamps and leg spreaders. I love the idea of tugging at the nipple chain and slapping the sub's ass, thighs and breasts. The beauty of this position is that it doesn't fully immobilize a sub. She can still writhe around and attempt to pull away. But ultimately; it's all still futile. She'll still be finished off with a rough fucking meant to reward an enthusiastic and deserving sub. Her arms will strain from the weight of her dom pushing into her. And while a stiff cock violates her willing ass from behind, a dom's hands can still reach around to stroke nipples and caress her clit into a multi-orgasmic crescendo. Lucky Aimee Sweet...
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Erotic Story: Basement Writing Challenge
It's been a while since I had the desire to write anything, but I friend tried to break my writers block by suggesting a location and rough elements of a story. I have to admit that basement imprisonment scenes aren't exactly my thing, but I really can't ignore a challenge either. Writing is much like acting: sometimes it requires putting on the guise of a person who is entirely unlike oneself. So let's see if this attempt gets the thumbs up from the peanut gallery...
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