Bondage Throat

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Bondage Throat
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What a turn-on it is when a pretty woman is securely bound, gagged and struggling. Fighting her bondage and gag even though there is little hope of getting free. Struggling makes the difference between a boring scene and an exciting one. There are several types of struggling and they can occur at different times during a story. 1. Capture struggling Technically, capture struggling occurs prior to the heroine's actual bondage or as she is being bound. Although she is not restrained with ropes or tape, she is always restrained. Her captor(s) grab and hold her. Typically, she is also handgagged. So she is in bondage even before ropes or tape or other restraint is applied. Sometimes this can be as little as the heroine being grabbed from behind and dragged away, but the good scenes are much longer. Chloroform Struggling There are lots of people who enjoy watching a heroine being grabbed from behind (usually), her body pinned with an arm and a hand with a cloth clamped over her mouth and nose. She struggles. Finally, the fumes slowly put her to sleep and she slumps to the floor or into her captor's arms. This is technically before she bound, but usually she is quite helpless in the arms of her captor. The chloroforming cloth also serves to gag her while she is being chloroformed. ------------------------------ Natalie followed Laura down the dark hall. She didn't trust the 29-year dark beauty, but what choice did she have? Laura stopped in front of the last door on the right and put her finger to her lips. Natalie quietly opened the door and made a silent gasp at what she saw. Light fell on the 25-year old blond's shocked face from the brightly illuminated room. "We have to get the police!" Natalie whispered. She was totally unaware that Laura had gone into her coat pocket and had pulled out a cloth from a plastic bag. Laura's attack was shift and well-planned. She grabbed Natalie around her waist with one arm pinning the surprised girl's arms to her sides. Her other hand clamped the soaked cloth over Natalie's mouth and nose. Natalie's instinct was to inhale deeply, but then she smelled the sweet fumes from that breath. Instinctively, she knew that Laura was trying to chloroform her. To put her to sleep. Natalie managed to get one of her gloved hands up to the arm holding the cloth on her face. She pulled at Laura's arm, but the arm barely moved. She moved her feet to get better leverage, but Laura adjusted her stance to compensate. Natalie was getting desperate. Her lungs were crying for air, but Natalie knew what would happen if she inhaled. She squirmed in the arms of her attacker and could feel her soft silk blouse rub against her tingling skin...tingling from fear and excitement. "You have to breathe sometime, dear," Laura hissed in her ear. Finally, Natalie had to breathe. Not just one breath, but she gulped air through the cloth that her lungs demanded. The drug began to affect her at a more rapid pace and she felt her limbs get weaker and her eyes became blurry. Natalie still struggled against Laura's tight embrace, but she knew she had lost and wondered what would happen to her. Natalie's eyes fluttered as her mind went black. Laura held onto Natalie for a few more seconds, but then let the dead-weight slip to the floor. "What do we have here?" a man asked as he came to the door. "A snooper. Take her to the back room and reward her with some ropes and a gag to keep her quiet," Laura instructed as the man dragged Natalie into the room. ----------------------------------- Struggling While Being Forcibly Bound One of my favorite types of struggling is when the heroine is captured and is bound while resisting. I remember a video distributed by Harmony back in the day that had two women tying up a third while she struggled. All three women were standing. One short portion of the video simply showed the three sets of high heel shoes moving on the hard-wood floor as the woman struggled against her captors. It was great. ---------------------------------- Vivian couldn't believe what was happening. She had stopped unexpectedly to pick-up something at home and as soon as she walked in the door she was grabbed by two masked women. The taller woman had an arm around her waist and her other gloved hand over her mouth. The shorter woman was trying to tie her up. She had cord in one hand and a scarf and handkerchief in the other. Vivian could guess what they intended to and she wasn't going to let them. It was difficult for Vivian to get any traction on the glossy hardwood floor in the foyer. "Stop squirming, Mrs. Jones. It will do you no good!" the shorter robber hissed. Vivian responded by kicking the woman in her shin with her pointed high heel shoe. The shorter woman yelped in pain and grabbed her leg. Vivian elbowed the larger robber who lost her grip and stumbled against the wall. Vivian was free and moved towards the front door, which she opened. She saw the street. All that was in her way was a storm door, which she went to open, but then a gloved hand grabbed her hand and twisted her arm behind her back. Another gloved hand was clamped over her mouth. She was dragged back. The smaller woman closed the front door. Vivian's eyes were wide in terror. "That will be quite enough of that, Mrs. Jones," the shorter robber said in a calm voice and then she rabbit punched the helpless woman in the stomach. Vivian was pushed up against the wall, both her arms were forced behind her back and held by the taller robber. The shorter woman wrapped cord around her wrists. Vivian wanted to scream, but the punch had robbed her of the ability. She tried to pull her hands away, but the larger woman had a very tight grip on her. Vivian pleaded with the woman saying 'no, please' in a faint voice over and over. She was ignored as the cord tightened around her wrists and was tied off. Vivian was pulled back so her head was next to the short woman's face. Her hand grabbed Vivian's chin and her other hand started to push a wadded up handkerchief in Vivian's mouth. Vivian tried to shake her head free, but the robber held her firmly and pushed the cotton handkerchief into her mouth. Suddenly her head was free, but one of Vivian's own silk headscarves, a floral one, was wrapped over her stuffed mouth and knotted tightly at the back of her head. Vivian tried to scream, but retched on her gag. The robbers laughed. "Let's put her in the closet upstairs. She can struggle without alerting her neighbors in there," the taller robber suggested. They grabbed the bound woman and forced her upstairs. Vivian resisted, fighting every inch of the way, but knew that she was defeated. ---------------------------------------------- More on struggling and bondage next time... Copyright 2013 Knotty Silk Scarf Productions

Thomas Silk Copyright 2022 KSS Productions General Information Angela Morris and her partner, Wendy Larson, are private investigators in the 1950s. Women PIs are a rarity at that time and as such they not only fight cheating husbands, criminals, but also a male dominated world. Their clients are exclusively women. The rationale for the time period chosen is given in the Lady Spies – A Chronology Like spy shows of that period, PI shows, such as 77 Sunset Strip, were male dominated. The women were either worked for or with the main characters or were guest stars. The one except was Honey West, who was the lead in a show by by the same name Unlike the women in those TV shows, Angela Morris, Wendy Lawson, and the other women in these stories are risking more than their lives as the villains, both men and women are also interested in them as women, to be conquered and ravished. Some of the villains are murders and Angela and Wendy must kill themselves at times to save their lives.
*KP-Presents (https://www.deviantart.com/kp-presents) had a great idea - open question time on his page. I thought I would do the same. You may ask any question of me that deals with my writing or stories. You may also ask questions of any of my characters concerning them or their actions in their stories. Questions addressed to a specific character will be answered by that character (not me). Do be careful - some of the characters are sensitive, particularly the villains, to criticism of their actions. They are villains, after all. 
8 Facts about The Duchess and Angela Morris
I have been tagged by *KP-Presents (https://www.deviantart.com/kp-presents) and :iconSirJerryLone: - gee, thanks guys. I'm honored, I think.

I am not going to follow the posted rules - sorry. I am not in favor of these types of trees. But the real reason is that these trees saturate very quickly. The people I would tag have already been tagged - some, like me, more than once. Enough is enough. As much as I like talking about my characters and I have a lot of them, I would rather be writing stories. So, onto the facts -

THE DUCHESS

The Duchess is on the left in the first image (Natasha is on the right). In the second image is of the Duchess bound and gagged. Both ill
I am not against artists making money so please don't send hate mail. Having said that, there are some truths that artists joining Patreon should understand.

Please note: I have NOTHING against Patreon and admittedly I don't know what the financial arrangements are except that I assume that Patreon takes a portion of the money that an artist brings in.

"Everyone is doing it"

Is that a good thing...not for the artist. Basically, the artist is setting up a mini-pay website. The internet seems like an endless source of potential money. It isn't. There is a limited amount of money out there to be spent on fetish stuff. That was/is certa
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I still struggle to figure out what it is in female capture scenes I like. See, I know just seeing a woman squirming in bondage does minimal for me, but if other things are added to it... I just have to sort out all the side fetishes that trickle into here. Ironically, though I like the try-fail cycle of the capture for your second scenario above, I don't think it is for the bondage, but for the "she just might get away". Ironic in that I'm a writer and I understand there should be two, three try-fail cycles to make anything done by a protagonist or antagonist feel "properly" difficult. Or in other words, I'm trying to figure out what it would take for me to ever unconditionally like your work (regardless of our differences of opinion on scarves) and others that do stuff like it. Yeah, dA is a really weird place to be sorting something like this out, but *shrugs* I'm used to being weird, so... >_> I will be looking forward to future parts of this article ^^




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Published May 4, 2015 11:00PM (EDT)


Related Topics ------------------------------------------
Human Trafficking
Jill Brenneman
Sex Slavery
Sex Work

I met Jill Brenneman in 2011 at a conference for sex workers in Asheville, North Carolina. Standing behind a podium ironically flanked by crosses, the tall redhead delivered a presentation so spellbinding that the audience seemed to breathe and gasp in unison. Her story of brutal rape, of slavery, of dungeons, of "50 Shades of Grey" bondage gone horribly awry, was so dark and harrowing that one wondered how she had even survived, much less summoned the strength to stand before us.
As I came to know her over the years, to enjoy her dry sense of humor, her keen intelligence, her blunt manner of speaking that forces you to take off every mask, I learned the other side of her story too. Her real story is not a tragedy. It is a lesson of redemption and courage, second chances and taking chances. Above all, it is a story of empowerment.
Jill was born in New Hampshire during the '60s, the daughter of a prominent, middle-class family with ties to the local school board. But secrets seethed beneath the family’s respectable exterior. Jill was raped for the first time at 5 years old when she wandered unknowingly into a bedroom during a sex act between her mother and her mother’s boyfriend. Enraged, her mother offered the boyfriend the opportunity to penetrate her daughter. She told him it was a punishment, and to make it hurt. He was happy to accommodate. Later, the boyfriend decided that little Jill was an exciting fringe benefit and continued to rape her with her mother’s full knowledge and consent.
At the end of 9th grade, Jill’s parents moved to a new house. She was informed that there was no room for her and she would have to find a new place to live. With only $100 in her pocket, Jill hitchhiked to Cincinnati to live with a friend. When the friend’s parents turned her away, Jill became homeless. At the time, she was 15 years old.
“I went out into the streets,” she says. “I spent all my money at an arcade on 'Pacman' and 'Space Invaders.' Then I realized that I had no money for food. That’s when the enormity of being homeless really hit.”
Jill began staking out cafés, where she would snatch sandwiches and run. She ate out of dumpsters and slept in the cemetery where police wouldn’t bother her; the sprinkler system provided a way to get clean. She was lonely, unhappy and overwhelmed. Then Bruce walked into her life.
“I met Bruce while I was sitting in the mall one day,” she recalls. “He looked like my teenage crush, Lindsey Buckingham from Fleetwood Mac. He came up to me and said 'Hi.' He was gorgeous and charming. He picked up that I was a homeless runaway and was really sympathetic. I thought, ‘Gosh, somebody finally understands and cares.’”
Bruce told Jill that he ran an entertainment agency and offered her a chance to audition. Excited at the prospect of work, but also wary, Jill asked if the “position” would involve prostitution. She didn’t want to do that. Bruce stood up angrily, shouting that she had asked a stupid question and he wasn’t going to help her. As he stormed off, Jill ran after him and begged him to reconsider, promising that she would ask no more questions. Bruce relented and invited her into his car, where he blindfolded her.
“As soon as he put the blindfold on, I knew something was wrong,” says Jill. “But I was already in the back of his car and I didn’t know what to do. He kept telling me we were going to his office downtown, but I could tell from the sounds outside that we had gotten off the freeway and were somewhere rural. At one point we stopped and I heard a garage door go up. We stepped out of the car into a place that smelled like a musty basement. I was so scared I started sobbing and he leveled me with a backhand.”
Jill was bound, gagged, suspended from a beam by her wrists, raped and beaten. Afterwards, Bruce, breathing heavily from the effort, informed Jill that she was now his slave. She would work for him as a submissive for sadistic clients. Then he untied her wrists and left her crumpled on the floor.
What followed was a grueling six weeks of “training” to ready Jill for her clients. In a special dungeon, Bruce put Jill through sensory deprivation exercises.
“We practiced endlessly on each piece of equipment,” she says. “I had to learn what it felt like and how much it hurt and how I was supposed to respond. We also worked on my cover story, which was that I was a student from Louisville and was so in awe of him that I decided to become his submissive girlfriend. If I was questioned I was to say this was all consensual.”
Once Bruce was satisfied with Jill’s training, she was allowed to see clients. The men would subject Jill to all manners of torture and twisted sex on the equipment. She had to pretend that she loved it and wanted it. If Bruce thought she hadn’t acted convincing enough, he would beat her. If she asked questions, he beat her. He even devised tricks to ensure she would not attempt escape. One time he paid a client to trick Jill into believing he wanted to help her. Together, Jill and the client set up an escape plan, but when Jill arrived at the designated safe house, Bruce was waiting for her with several other men. She was gang raped as punishment and brutalized so badly that her voice was forever altered into the gravely tone with which she speaks today.
“I wanted to die,” said Jill. “I never tried to leave him again.”
It was a stroke of luck that eventually ended Jill’s slavery. Three years after her abduction, Bruce was arrested on a charge unrelated to human trafficking and suddenly, Jill was free.
“I felt very confused and alone,” she recalls. “I was in a world where I didn't know anyone, had no particular place to go or any real idea of how to rebuild my life. I was also terrified because I thought it might be another trap set by Bruce.”
Pushing thoughts of her captivity to the dark recesses of her mind, Jill escaped to Las Vegas and slowly tried to rebuild her life. She figured out how to forge identification documents and graduation certificates, eventually landing a job as a flight attendant. But she couldn’t stop looking over her shoulder, always fearful that Bruce would come back.
In 1996, Jill wrote a response to a male commentator online who accused all runaways of being drug addicts who didn’t want to live under their parents’ rules. Her reply caught the attention of a woman who worked at a shelter for runaways and Jill was invited to Portland, Oregon. There, she was encouraged to tell her story.
Over the years Jill began working as a web designer, media coordinator and public speaker for organizations in the anti-trafficking movement. Traveling as a guest speaker, Jill told her story to spell-bound audiences, raising the battle cry to end human trafficking and violence against women. But something wasn’t quite right.
“People within the [anti-
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