Wearing a rope harness in public has its perils, as Red explains:

It’s funny, I would have thought that the rope harness peaking out from under my black halter-top dress would have made me blush deeply if seen in public, but for some reason it wasn’t phasing me. No, instead my attention was focused on the rope ends dangling down the inside of my legs, cresting just below the short hem of my dress. Every time they grazed across my skin, I was sure my jolt and my smile were obvious to anyone watching.

The coffee shop closed, so we left. Monk finished his coffee with a flourish — how he did it so damned quickly was beyond me. I continued to nurse mine as we drove down the road. This leg of the car ride was particularly difficult – not only was I steadying a hot cup of coffee, I was trying to stabilize my wiggles and movements as the car went over bumps, doing my best to stop the rope drawn tight between my legs from making me yelp *too* much. I’m pretty sure I only partially succeeded.

The space was quite busy when we arrived, but we found a spot quickly nonetheless. I watched intently as he prepared for the scene ahead, taking it in, letting my imagination get ahead of itself as I did so. Finally, he looked at me with eyes that spoke their intent very clearly. We were about to begin.

“Better make a pit stop,” he told me, “Cause once we start…”

Visions of my crotch rope danced before my eyes. It’s like he could tell what flew through my mind, because he looked at me with terribly amused eyes and said “I guess you’d better be careful.”

I no doubt flushed red, as my embarrassment burned in my cheeks before channeling down my spine, making me ache deep within. As I fumbled with the rope, trying desperately (and successfully) not to pee on it, I blushed deeper. My sex throbbed deeply against the line of hemp drawn across its core, calling for more struggles and more friction. More more more…

I doubt that the blushing had subsided before I was back before him, but I didn’t care. His eyes smiled as he drew the rope through his hands.

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Hey, when you’re a wooden boy and your father is a woodcarver, isn’t it only natural that you’d just chisel out the woman of your dreams?

From the cover of a Screw magazine from 1979.

BJ from BJ’s Gay Porno-crazed Ramblings is one of the very few people on my blogroll who have been doing this sex blog thing longer than I have. He appears to have a vintage gay porn collection of enormous depth and scope, bits of which he sometimes blogs about when he offers them (the bits) for sale on eBay. It is, however, exceedingly rare for BJ to mention anything that might involve the risk of girl-cooties, which makes this description doubly hilarious:

WARNING! DANGER!

I can only hope you read the warning! danger! before clicking for the clip. It’s from my all-time favorite (porno) film, BUT it involves a chick. To my closest friends who know me as a Kinsey 8, the fact that I can not only watch, but actually enjoy this scene is bewildering. Roy Garrett goes to the local porno shop (in rural Montana in 1982 – willing suspension of disbelief, anyone?) and winds up feeding dollars to Jolene (wonderfully portrayed by Suzanne Tyson, who you no doubt remember form the 1981 classic, Wanda Whips Wall Street, but I digress…) and doing terrible, disgusting, sickening things – meaning he touches “it”, she touches her own “it”, he even… oh, I can’t even type it… but there’s also these two other guys watching, and watching each other. It’s not about gaysex, it’s about Male Bonding (with a vengeance, as the video box says).

I —– JUST —– LOVE IT!

He’s talking about a film called Heatstroke, and he’s kindly included a link to a ten minute clip.

This is one of the Hogtied.com models, limbering up before a shoot. I think she’s trying to taunt the guy with the ropes, to make sure he does an extra good job tying her up:

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Overheard by The Barmaid:

Chick #1: I just can’t believe Spitzer paid that girl four thousand dollars for one night. I’m totally in the wrong line of work.
Chick #2: I don’t know… you probably wouldn’t get to choose who you have sex with. Spitzer’s an ugly motherfucker.
Chick #1: I don’t choose what ad accounts I work on, either! And I hate some of those assholes.
Chick #2: Yeah, but the guy kept his socks on. That’s so weird.
Chick #1: Honey, for four grand a night, he can dress up as Kermit and call me Piggy.

The scary thing is, I knew a girl in college who probably would have liked that, she was Miss Piggy’s biggest fan. Perhaps fortunately, I was her “go cry on his shoulder” guy, so it never came up.

All politics aside, I think it’s pretty cool that there’s a state governor out there who got elected notwithstanding his history of posing for naked pictures:

Of course, when a woman with a pictorial past gets elected without her nudie pics becoming a matter of national controversy, then we’ll know we’re making progress.

This bit of nude Arnold Schwarzenegger beefcake was originally published in After Dark magazine in 1977, and appears here after being shamelessly “borrowed” from OMG! Blog.

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A spam that made it through my filters today made me smile with the sheer excess of the offer in the subject line:

Hogtied Amateur Vacuum Tortured On Butt Hardcore

Gracious me, I sure wouldn’t want to settle for softcore vacuum torturing on the butts of hogtied amateurs!

The pitch inside the spam email was softened just a bit: “Brunette Bdsm Slave Vacuum Tortured Hardcore” and a link.

It’s possible they actually wanted to sell me some hogtied amateur brunettes, but I doubt it. Reputable porn sites eschew spam as a marketing method, because spam creates blind rage that tends to be an insurmountable marketing barrier. Plus, it’s illegal in the United States. Sometime I’ll get spam (not this one) that seems to be selling a porn site I know about, but it’s usually a form of social proof; if you think you’re familiar with the pitched product, you’re more likely to click through into unsuspected spyware browser-hijacking hell.

Anyway, I’ll never know for sure what this particular spam was selling, because I lacked the courage or foolhardiness to click the link. The domain had certain famous small fuzzy toy keywords in it (maybe so it would look safe?) and a .cn domain extension. Those Chinese domain names are notorious these days because spammers can buy them in bulk for cheap, which means that they can use them for hostile and malicious spam campaigns that lead directly to aggressive malware installers, browser hacks, and the like. Once the domain gets widely banned, or even deactivated, just move on to a new one!

The return email address looked like the email for some poor guy’s AT&T cell phone. That’s easily spoofed and was probably pure fiction, but it made me wonder. Is this yet another bad thing that can happen to you when you get your cell phone stolen?

Now, start your vacuum cleaners!