Atlanta Bondage

I simply love this photo. It’s not technically superior. It’s not overly creative. What it is, is evocative as hell. Simple, hot, irresistible.

Anyone know the artist? I found this via Stumble Upon and the url is:

http://www.antistaticsheets.com/blog/photography/group-eumorphia-autumn_bw_055.jpg

I emailed the address on the main site there, but any tips are appreciated.

by Countess Grotesque

I need to torture someone’s tits and enjoy their suffering.

by jG via French Girls

Umm, I’d like to.  UK sinsation, Vikki Blows

From Sabine Schönberger’s Nostaglie 4

I did a translation to English of her biography which left something to be desired (the translation that is), but I think, however, the essence of her message is that she strives for her work to transcend the visual representation and attempts to resonate with the dreams and fantasies that lie within us and embody the deeper, more magical aspects of our nature.

Apologies to her in advance, for anything lost in translation or in My paraphrasing.

I love the attire in these shots. I am very much drawn to the look of modern latex and euro fetish, but I also have a strong attraction to classic boudoir / vintage attire. Now, if she were only a redhead. :)

From the latest session at The Training of O.

Princess Donna gets a little bit of everything… like being beaten while chained to a hunk of cement.

via Darker Sights & Sounds (referred to Me by The Shackler)

I’m sure Mr. Wal-Mart would smile knowing his store is serving such a broad audience of customers so well… even perverts like JR from Into The Attic…

Some days you just feel like a million bucks. Maybe 10 million. We have a full schedule lined up with some of our top 10 downloaded girls as well as some shiny new & young faces. That’s always a good fact. Then, the weather here today has just been fantastic after such a long winter. I found myself heading over to my local Wal-Mart to buy some groceries and, well, bondage items. Yeah, I hate Wal-Mart. I always wash my hands after I get out of there. But as you recall, we’re a bit remote over here so that’s the closest place to me for picking up sundry items. So I’m heading past the cow pastures and barbed wire fences, the sun is shinning, wind blowing through the windows and it’s a pleasant temperature for a change. Leonard Cohen is on the radio, my arm out the window tapping on the side of the rig as I barrel down the two lane road headed into civilization. I swing into a really close parking spot next to the cart corral and head on in past the geriatrics sentry stationed at the front door. Now, going into Wal-Mart is always a lesson in observation. I whistle my way through the door and into the land of desperation. As I cruise through the store I’m always wondering about some of the folks I see. You know some of them have a kinky side; probably the ones you’d least expect. Today I noticed the blonde, maybe in her late 20s early 30s, pushing a cart with a young kid. She had on a tight pair of jeans, mid calf. Shoes that suggested she still found herself in heat sometimes and a blouse that was loose fitting but left little to the imagination as to her breast size. Then there was the store manager. I noted him, with his clipboard and white button up shirt that looked like he’d been pleased to have just one more button to button up, walking around near the front. He didn’t look like he could break a piece of balsa wood in two. Was that a clip on tie? And then the slight female wearing all black with stiletto heels. She didn’t have a cart but I keep seeing her in the aisles. Do people actually go to Wal-Mart and troll? I dunno, I head over to the meat section to get my cheap filet minons, vac-u-sealed, but they were out –again. So I pick up some 80/20 hamburger meat and plan to grill some burgers when I get back home –nice and rare. I doodle over to the office section looking for some binders to go with the clothespins I already use for nipple clamps. While there I note the attractive 20s something girl getting her own binders and chuckle to myself about how we’d be using them in completely different ways –or will we? Then it’s off to find the jute string for roping those nipples off to the ceiling, or whatever. While on my way over to the rope section I see chain and padlocks for sale and think to myself –can a guy really have all the heavy chain and padlocks he needs? Now I’m looking for more packing tape. Been wrapping quite a few heads lately so need to stock up on that. Afterwards, I head past the pantyhose section and realize, heck, I need some of those as well. They make a good base to start a head wrapping. I passed by the belt section and that kinky side of me said, yeah, get a couple of those. Long, black leather belts make good items in BDSM play. I realize, thank god, I bought a big 36 pack of Magnum XXL condoms here the other day while shopping with The Wife. Whew. I really hate buying those condoms. Especially when its the only thing I’m in there for. I mean really, I always buy those giant ones and I have to wonder what the chick thinks every time I go through her line with all these big ass condoms –and with such frequency. Heh. Finally, I pick up some whipping cream (and chuckle to myself again) and head out. Back on the road to remoteness I’m feeling pretty good. Maybe I’ll stop by the meat market and get a really good Porterhouse. Something that will leave a lot of blood on the plate when I eat it with some extra hot horseradish. Yummy.

I really enjoy JR’s writing. That was one of the things that got Me really interested in The Attic in the first place - His write-ups on the girls that visit. Recently, he started a blog and it’s very much worth the read.

I do have one things to say about this post, JR… I’m sure there was an opportunity to start a new paragraph somewhere in there. :)

Into The Attic (blog)

I created this image for her when she agreed to blog again two Januarys ago

For the last three years and up until very recently,
I hadn’t contemplated a life without her by My side

It is still very difficult to imagine

Someone asked to understand how something so beautiful could end

It’s sort of like the Anais Nin qoute on her blog:

And the day will come when the risk to remain tight in a bud
was more painful than the risk it took blossom…

Except that for Me, the risk of the staying as we were
was more painful than the risk of moving on

her words are no longer for Me

she will submit to another soon

it is done…

and I sit here experiencing the pain of moving on

mourning what was the most beautiful thing I’ve known

and I will hold the memories tight and fondly and always wonder “what if?”

and I already regret that I will never know

(My last post for her)

Beautiful images to start your Monday off in the right frame of mind from Nena Blue…