The Joy Of Bondage

My photos of bondage, spanking, BDSM, public nudity, naked girls, and random cool stuff

You are currently browsing the archives for April, 2016.

Public Caning

Public Caning

In light of the current wave of legislation discriminating against trans people, I thought I would show my support by sharing a picture of one. No, I’m not telling you which she is.

© 2016, Andrew Conway. All rights reserved.

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Bus Stop

Bus Stop Spanking

“While we are waiting for the bus, would you like to spank me?”

© 2016, Andrew Conway. All rights reserved.

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Lips

Lips

“Do what you will with her, without a second thought, use her variously, however you might wish. Keep her nude for a year, if you wish. Conceive of her, neck-chained, ankle-chained, at your slave ring. Consider her soft lips, and tongue, obedient and moist, on your feet, on your body. Is she not of interest? Consider her crawling to you, begging not to be whipped.”

I cried out, softly, in misery. “Forgive me, Master,” I said.

“I am now prepared to accept bids,” said the auctioneer.

— John Norman, Conspirators of Gor

© 2016, Andrew Conway. All rights reserved.

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Beckoning

Beckoning

“Come here, Master”

© 2016, Andrew Conway. All rights reserved.

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I Am Bound, Master

But I Am Tied Master

“Perhaps we should be entertained,” he said.

“Perhaps,” said Mirus, puzzled.

“I can do little, Master,” said Tupita. “I am bound.”

“Do not underestimate yourself,” he said.

“True, Master,” she laughed, delightedly. There are many things, of course which a woman, bound, can do for a man, and, indeed, if she is bound she knows, if anything, she must strive even more desperately to be pleasing to him.

— John Norman,  Dancer of Gor

© 2016, Andrew Conway. All rights reserved.

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Bound Slavegirl Awaiting A Master

Bound Slavegirl Awaiting a Master

I gasped. I feared for a moment I might die. My heart began to beat wildly. I did not wish to faint. I suddenly felt great heat, helpless heat in my belly. It seemed my thighs flamed. I was bound helplessly. My responses were suitable for a slave. I hoped the men could not smell me. Then I was terrified.

— John Norman, Dancer of Gor

© 2016, Andrew Conway. All rights reserved.

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