From 1984 through 1987, before it occurred to me to put them into a book or a magazine, I solicited letters of personal bondage experiences through the NYBC, urging people then, as I did with Bound & Gagged, to submit their contributions anonymously if they felt more comfortable that way. This writer was one of the few who actually did choose to protect his anonymity, which saddened me because I would have loved to write him back, begging him to tell me about more of his experiences. Not only was this devious "bondsman," as he called himself, almost certainly an extraordinary photographer whose private photo collection I'd have loved to get a peep at; he was also a very good writer.
Note: Okay, so the photos in this post weren't taken in a studio, the model wasn't posed on a lavender background and he didn't start off wearing his briefs. On the other hand, he is tied up with clothesline and he does get gagged with a bandanna, and when I went looking for photos to illustrate this story, I found these which I hadn't seen in a very long time, and I think they're very hot… So what the hell.
PHOTOGRAPHER TIES UP ACTORS IN EXCHANGE FOR FREE PORTFOLIOS
As a professional photographer, I get lots of requests from actors to do their portfolios. When I see one which appeals, I say I'll do it for free if I can take a series of bondage pix for a client. I haven’t been turned down yet. Of course, I’m the “private client.”
After I shoot their portfolio pix I tell them to freshen their makeup, usually bronzer, eyebrow pencil and lipgloss and strip to their briefs. You’d be surprised how many wear bikini style.
I love using clothesline rope and prefer posing them on a dark lavender roll of paper. I tie their mitts behind them, then surprise the shit out of them when I whip out a bandana or take off my ascot and tie it so tight in their mouths that their eyes practically bulge out. If they’re still protesting, I wad up a hanky and shove it in behind the gag. I tell them to smile for the camera. They can’t help but show their teeth since the gag is so tight. Right away the bastards begin drooling on the gag and I know I have their juices flowing, wondering what I’m going to do with them.
Tying their ankles can be a problem when I get a kicker. (They often kick when I pull their shorts off). Once the ankles are secure, I bind their knees and roll them over on their stomachs. Taking my time, I oil their backs with mineral oil, concentrating on their buns, slipping a little into the ass crack and massaging the lips. When I turn them over they invariably have a hard-on.
I oil the front of the body, concentrating on the pectorals, pinching the nipples erect as possible and massaging their baskets. I snap off several pix and leave the room. They don’t realize that I'm shooting from the booth. I enjoy watching them struggle against the ropes so much that I usually come. About 15 minutes later, I return, hogtie them and shoot a couple more pix.
They are usually madder than hell when I untie them and want the pix destroyed. I pull out a dummy roll of film, expose it, and they cool off, happy to have their free pix.
I got into bondage when I was about ten years old. My older cousin used to babysit me when my parents went on long trips. He made it a wonderful game. Using clothesline he tied me to chairs, in a hammock, to a stud in the basement, in bed, in the bathroom to the toilet and tub, and to the rafters in the attic. I loved the gags he'd come up with, especially when he'd shove his dirty shorts in my mouth and adhesive tape them in place. Once I was under control, he'd suck on my tits and little cock. He always jacked off as I struggled to get free. He entered college and I didn’t get back into bondage until years later.
That was when an advertising rep buddy of mine used to come over to my place for dinner every weekend. He’d drink my liquor, then sleep it off Sunday morning. Although he knew I was gay, he taunted me with his macho, strutting around in skintight briefs and always refusing any advances from me.
One night he passed out on my couch and I stripped the handsome fucker. In no time I had his wrists tied to his thighs and his ankles bound together. I sat on the floor beside the sofa and began sucking on his cock. Slowly, as his cock bloated, he came out of his alcoholic fog and realized what was happening. He began yelling and I shoved his shorts in his mouth.
Before he could spit them out, I tied them securely in place with his discarded necktie. He began bucking, trying to stop me from sucking him off, but it was futile. He was soon exhausted and I grasped his tits with my fingers and rolled the nipples raw. He moaned and I resumed sucking.
After he came, I untied his feet and took him into my bedroom and helped him into bed, loosely tying his ankles. During the night I heard him free his hands, remove the gag and get out of bed. I heard him piss, then return and lie next to me, slipping his gag back in and his hands into the loose bonds.
Later, when I got up, he pretended to struggle to get free. I took advantage of his pretending to greedily nurse at his tits which caused a stony hard-on which I also nursed. Although he’s now married, we occasionally have a “boy’s night out.”
As a bondsman I know the ins and outs of all kinds of bondage. To me nothing is more sensual than watching a turned-on male struggling against the rope in order to keep his masculinity intact. If he’s a super-macho type I like to use a large ball gag which forces his mouth open and stretches his lips around the rubber. His lips I coat liberally with bright red greasy non-kissproof lipstick. When I kiss his gagged mouth, he can see the red on my mouth and he struggles all the more to get free.
Keep the knots tight and the gags wet.
These pictures are so hot
Posted by: Mike | October 17, 2014 at 09:42 AM