Sometimes you just really want to fill her mouth all the way up with something other than the nonsense that’s coming out of it, and your dick has other plans. In times like those, you can’t beat a pneumatic rubber inflatable gag:
Art is by Geknebelt.
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This bondage orgasms machine is set by default to produce six orgasms per hour — one every ten minutes. The slider on the remote goes all the way up to one orgasm every two minutes, but that’s only achievable by about half of all the test subjects. The failure mode is fun to watch, though. When the dildo program restarts and the electrical stimulation resets to baseline, missed orgasms are aborted and the frustrated screams of the orgasm trainees are rather entertaining:
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This style of ring gag is somewhat old-fashioned; it’s the sort of thing you used to see a lot in sex shops next to the cheap vinyl whips. Better designs for open-mouth gags are everywhere these days. But these are simple, and they work:
I found this photo in an old Usenet download directory.
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In Caroline, by F.E. Campbell, our heroine is punished with a simple but painful endurance tie:
Caroline Dover followed her owner out into the morning. She did not instantly grasp that the wagon wheel was the instrument of torture. When it was made clear to her, she exclaimed, “But it goes around and around! You mean, I–”
“Today is for repairs and rest. The wagon will not move.”
“I suppose I won’t move either?”
“Mais certainment! How did you guess?”
Caroline was vexed by how little she was prone to anger with this man. She was sure she should be in hysterics. If this wheel spelt punishment, the least she could expect would be a day of discomfort. She kept her voice under control. “Do you want me to position myself some way?”
“You kneel–your feet back with a spoke between–and I’ll do the rest.”
She felt silly, like a small girl being instructed in a strange new duty. Curious, she looked back to watch her ankles being tied. With a spoke between, they could not be withdrawn. Her binding had begun.
“I think ye seek my shame. Like this–before all the camp?”
“They’ve all see ye naked, and there’s none here watching now.”
“But when you’re gone, they’ll come quickly enough! Will they switch me with the willows?”
“There will be no willows.” Dubois lifted her left hand as high as her arm would stretch. Studiously, he began to tie its scarlet wrist to the rim. “You’ll find this wheel unkind enough without any willows.”
“Or is it the way you tie me?”
He had her right hand now, its wrist hard against the metal tire and hardwood felloe. His care and precision in its binding was the same as with her left. They were identically placed on the outer perimeter of the wagon wheel, stretched high and wide to compel the captive girl hard back against the hub. As on a previous occasion, Caroline found herself looking down at tautened and protruding breasts.
“Well?”
Dubois’s question held a chuckle. The tied girl could now comprehend what her day would be like. The hub was pressing into the small of her back in a way to presage distress to come. Nor could she move to find easement. Her arms were tied too tight and too far out for that. As though to make quite sure, Dubois now tied each of them above the elbow hard back against a spoke. The pressure against her back and the arrogance of breasts was now doubled. Their owner’s retort was bitter.
“I might bear this if you had not tied my elbows. I can see why you used the word ‘unkind.'” Beseechingly, the bound girl gazed up into smiling eyes. “Please–not my elbows!”
Nodding in satisfaction at his work, Jean Dubous stepped back for a leisurely contemplation, intense enough to make his victim blush. Knowing herself condemned, Caroline said nothing, but bowed her head to hide her hurt. He soon went away and left the girl on the wheel alone. Knowing that he was gone, she struggled. But it only hurt her more, so she scarcely moved at all. It hurt a little even to breathe. It would be best to remain submissively still. Resigned to her fate, she once more bent her head.
…
Dubois was leisurely in his return. Approaching soundlessly, he was able to survey his captive for almost a minute before she sensed his presence and raised her head. Caroline’s greeting was simple.
“I hurt.”
Dubois nodded. “You will come to hate that wheel.”
“Must you keep me tied to it? I cannot move.”
He shrugged his most eloquent of shrugs. “That is the way of the wheel, cherie, and you are on it.”
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Woman with a big smile is telling her best girlies where she was all weekend: “Well, it’s like this, see. I’ve got these new friends from the gym, and they’re all kinda kinky. One of them has this farm upstate, and they where having this big kinky play-party campout weekend thing. I told them I didn’t want to go, but you know how it is… somehow I got roped into it!”
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It’s not very comfortable-looking , but this bedroom bondage sex position is visually arresting, you’ve got to give it that. There’s time, surely, for just one small erotic dalliance, before she’ll need rescuing from that tie?
From a site called Cum Junk that’s been defunct since the 20th century.
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Vanilla buddy, just shootin’ the shit: “Hey, man, what’s your favorite sex position?”
Kinkster, thinking about it: “Well, that depends… How many anchor points do I have?”
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