The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #139? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set. This Week’s Picks Champagne Orgasms Tie one on Mr. Sugasm Himself Editor’s Choice See also: Fleshbot’s Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday. (Sugasm participants should re-post all the links above within a week. The following links may be excluded as long as you include all the above links.) BDSM & Fetish |
Showing posts with label tit torture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tit torture. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Sugasm #138
Friday, June 20, 2008
a jagged soft puzzle
the sound of her breath
clutching for rescue
moved me to force more
unto her as
her moans captured
her red skin voice for me
lips licking gasps
lingered torture of her
bosom's tight explosion
filling her body with
liquid swell
fingers fingering incomplete
no stop yes yes more
lips licking gasps
undulating bodies fit
hot pieces together in
a jagged soft puzzle
clutching for rescue
moved me to force more
unto her as
her moans captured
her red skin voice for me
lips licking gasps
lingered torture of her
bosom's tight explosion
filling her body with
liquid swell
fingers fingering incomplete
no stop yes yes more
lips licking gasps
undulating bodies fit
hot pieces together in
a jagged soft puzzle
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Train wreck
The definition of an obsession is one of cruel consequences for the individual who suffers under its jurisdiction. Should you come across any example of the object of your obsession, your mind becomes hostage to the stimulus, and your body is left dangling in the wind, to act without the calm and cool collectiveness of rational thought. This is how it has been for me lately with regards to induced lactation, and more centrally, the female mammaries, as apparent by the above illustration.
I have collected over the years many examples of tit transformation. Either from the monstrous enlargement as represented dangling above or from the metamorphosis a girl experiences when put through a session of self-guided tit torture. I've never really stopped to examine why i spent so much energy gathering this material. The obvious and immediate answer would be that i can't get enough tit. Every girl i've ever dated, been intimate with, played with or dominated had a decent endowment. Discount those jagged romps of my prepubescent years, and i can go on record that all of my female counterparts were at least a C cup. Now was this purposeful? No, not really, i didn't size a girl up by the proportion of her attic to her cellar. But clearly, tits have played an important role in my sexuality.
Perhaps too important a role. After all, their mutation has played a central role in my fantasies. But were you to stumble onto this site for the first time and see the aloft jpeg, you might be quite perplexed as to where i derive the enticement. The poor swollen boobed girl above offers no further information about her submissive predicament other than the fact that she has been (or let her self be) subjected to some twisted scientist's modification. But it's the extreme proportion of this singular alteration that grabs a hold of me. Who would want such a thing? What purpose would a girl with such gigantic tits serve? Who could even do such a thing?
This site's url, TransformHer, pretty much declares the focus of my exposition. Thus, a preoccupation with the conversion of a female's breasts from biological purposeful instruments into sexually freakish objects should come as no surprise to those who visit. We love to objectify here at the Chapel of Deity. And we also love to raise the ante.
Enter the fetish artist, Simon Benson. His drawings remain some of the more extreme representations of female objectification i've ever encountered. Even i have some reticence with regards to some of his more lurid fantastic illustrations, but there is one sector that he excels at that i cannot - with much effort, i do try - to turn away from: tit transfiguration.
There is not much difference between the first image i presented and these two Benson offerings, except that the two girls immediately above have been stripped ever further of their humanity, which, of course, i find even more erotic. They are fixtures, appliances, mechanisms.
A man who lets such things overcome him to the point of obsession eventually, over time, seeks more and more accelerated stimulation. Staring at these pictures over and over, attempting to feed this insatiable beast inside could only last for so long. Soon the creature within will want something new, a different kind of prey. This leads someone with my affliction to search and scavenge for ever greater examples of objectification accomplished, of course, through even more extreme mammary alteration.
What i recently found, i'm still not sure what to make of. The video that concludes this entry represents the strongest example of female servitude to the patriarchal hegemony i've yet witnessed. Despite that, i couldn't help but watch the entire video, and worse, i couldn't help but be entirely aroused. What turned me on was the idea that someone would offer their body - specifically this one part - to another human being as their treasure, their domain to master.
I don't even know if the magnitude of the girls' tits in this video are real or possible. I don't know if, actually (and perhaps, thankfully) these are fake prosthetics strapped to these females' backs. And as i came down from the erotic rush that such massive transformation injected into me, i began to feel some remorse and hope that they were indeed fake. I couldn't imagine a world where girls had to manage with tits this large. What has happened to these young ladies borders on deformation, and i struggle with the idea that any of it aroused me (several times).
I'm quite secure about how my mind reacts to the world and constructs my desires, but i also recognize, as a result of my real life power exchange with my girl, that there has to be a natural ultimate to fantasy. This video exhibits the possible overstep of that limit as a rational and acceptable boundary.
Discuss...
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Letting go
***THIS POST CONTAINS VERY EXPLICIT DEPICTIONS. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO SUCH MATTER***
A great deal of my experience in exploring my sexuality has come from straddling a very thin line between the acceptable and the outrageous. Consider my kink a simple rowboat floating on open waters. I started out rowing in shallow pools encountering sights and sensations that got me so much more excited than those i saw walking as a pedestrian on land. Eventually, i rowed out away from the shore, where the sea floor began to descend beneath me, and the crystal clear surf gave way to dark, murky ocean. Yet, i stayed afloat. The further i moved away from the land, the deeper the sea grew, and yet, i found my appetites for the freakish, haunting and unknown shadows growing, keeping my head just above the surface. At some point, i may make landfall again, but for now, my home is the mighty sea.
One way of analyzing this character evolution could have someone say that i sought one shocking and challenging experience after another, that it was an addiction to the next, increasingly stronger hit. I won't dismiss this view, but what i have come to understand is the deeper, more meaningful operant. Each successive level of deviousness allowed me to release my hold on the world; essentially, to let go.
It is an interesting concept to ponder for a dominant to pursue the relinquishing of control, but i cannot express it any other way. As the extremity of my play increased, as i whipped her harder, bound her tits longer, immobilized and dehumanized her more and more, i found tranquility from the demons of the secular world that pound upon my hull. More surprising, however, is what i have learned about my motivation; that what drives this passion to push more and more is to seek, accomplish and witness the same sensation of my own submissive letting go.
As i was thinking about this recently, the most vivid example of it came to me from one of my favorite videos in my (overly) vast collection. The folks over at Torture Galaxy (talk about living upto a name) crafted this specific thrill ride involving some rather serious tit torture. I'm not an avid fan of tit torture. If i could eat only one cuisine, it would most likely be stringent bondage (with a little dehumanization/objectification tossed in). But there are certainly scenes that involve a girl and her delicious tits getting the full brunt of her dominant's sadism that hit the spot. This was one of them. And OH what a spot it hit.
The setup:
A shop, like one that a carpenter or a metalworker might have. Tools, both for torture and fabrication purposes, hang on the walls. The girl is seated in a chair that has a metal frame on her side and over her head. Her legs are duct-taped to the vinyl seat. Her arms are taped to armrests that sit about waist level. Her back is firmly resting on the rear of the chair. She is topless, and wearing only a garter belt and stockings on her bottom.
The first act:
In walks the dominant. He positions in front of her two blue vice grips that have had, in their flat plates, pins driven through them. They look like rectangular venus fly traps with endless rows of fangs on both their bottom and upper jaws. He places each tit in a separate vice, and squeezes the trigger, ratcheting down on the meat of her tit. She lets out a gloriously hungry moan as she feels the pins impressing on her flesh. He applies a Hitachi wand to her cunt, taping it in place, and she immediately reacts. Her eyes roll in the back of her head. A few minutes of this, he cuts her hands free, which quickly move to the same triggers he'd earlier squeezed, and she proceeds to slowly vice her tits, tighter and tighter, hungry for the pain in her chest and the fulfillment in her loins.
The second act:
He removes the vices. You see symmetrical rows of pink polka dots sprinkling along the surface of her skin. He moves quickly. He grabs a 10-inch long metal skewer, and impales her right tit, just on the inside of the bulb of flesh, piercing from underneath, through the tit, and out up through the top. He continues to move quickly. He mirrors this on the inside of the left tit. He then adds two more skewers on the outside of each mound. She shrieks, a tiny gasp, every time the sharp point punctures her flesh. Continuing to move quickly, he takes thick rubber bands and runs one from the top of each inner skewer, across her chest, to the corresponding skewer on the other side. He repeats this on the bottom. This stretches out her tits, pulling them inward toward the center. Next, he takes S-shaped, double-headed fasteners, anchors these off of the outside skewers, attaches rubber bands to these, and then pulls the thick elastic out to posts on the metal frame situated on either side of her.
For a final touch, he uses three 1/2 inch play piercing needles, and threads these under the surface of each of her nipples. At this point, you can see her starting to leave her body. Her eyes are glazed. She's not even reacting to the needles pushing through. Her mouth is hanging partially open, and goosebumps are raised all over her flesh. He feeds clear fishing line in and out of each needle, fastening these to a block hanging above her head. He ratchets this until her tit lifts up from her chest. He reapplies the Hitachi, and then hands her a manual staple gun.
The third act:
By this point, from the effect of the Hitachi and her tits being pulled in all directions, the girl has disappeared. She is no longer situated in front of the camera. Her body is there, but her mind is obliterated, floating somewhere near Jupiter. The demon occupying her body cavorts with her hands to move the staple gun to the top of her right tit, and place it against the surface of her skin.
I remember watching this the first time (i've viewed it over 45 times), and shaking my head in complete befuddlement that this girl might actually pull the trigger on the staple gun. This creature no longer occupied any mortal world i knew. Her appetites had turned into two sharp prongs: pain and pleasure. I wanted so badly to watch her wound herself. I wanted to see her desire completely invert how all of the best practices her "upbringing" had instructed her: You do not staple your body.
SNAP!*
The first staple impaled her. She yelps. Another.
*SNAP!*
Yelps again, but they are getting deeper. The demon is growing more present. She draws a line of 10 staples on the top of her tit. She moves to the left. 8 more snaps. 8 more guttoral moans.
The Hitachi continues to violently shake into her cunt. Her dominant, deliciously wicked, ups the ante. He removes the back of the chair she was resting on, so that her body is angled back, and all that is supporting her are the contrivances slung viciously through her tits. She roars in ecstasy. Her body is starting to shudder, and just when i think she has completely departed, her arms reach up, and grab ahold of the elastics stretching from the outside of her tits to the frame. Her head arches back. She's putting as much weight on these anchorings as possible, and then, she begins to yank hard on the rubberbands. She's screeching into the air, as her bound thigh muscles jerk wildly in their place. Liquid is gushing out of her pummeled cunt, until finally the last eruption occurs, and she falls limp.
What deserves immediate mention is that i do not know what stage of training this girl is at. I don't know much about her at all, in fact. I do not know how far she has come from how inexperienced she was, or whether she immediately took to this form of treatment. I know, however, that this is not her first time. That is clearly evident. What is also evident, at least in this video, is the level of care, concern and comfort her dominant offers her following this ordeal. He is soft. He strokes her face, her hair. His hands dictate his gratitude, running gracefully over her flesh, communicating with her by touch. A touch that has stepped down in magnitude from its violent, piercing statements before, and now welcomes her back, slowly, to the land of the living.
He praises her for letting go. This is a gift of endless treasure.
A great deal of my experience in exploring my sexuality has come from straddling a very thin line between the acceptable and the outrageous. Consider my kink a simple rowboat floating on open waters. I started out rowing in shallow pools encountering sights and sensations that got me so much more excited than those i saw walking as a pedestrian on land. Eventually, i rowed out away from the shore, where the sea floor began to descend beneath me, and the crystal clear surf gave way to dark, murky ocean. Yet, i stayed afloat. The further i moved away from the land, the deeper the sea grew, and yet, i found my appetites for the freakish, haunting and unknown shadows growing, keeping my head just above the surface. At some point, i may make landfall again, but for now, my home is the mighty sea.
One way of analyzing this character evolution could have someone say that i sought one shocking and challenging experience after another, that it was an addiction to the next, increasingly stronger hit. I won't dismiss this view, but what i have come to understand is the deeper, more meaningful operant. Each successive level of deviousness allowed me to release my hold on the world; essentially, to let go.
It is an interesting concept to ponder for a dominant to pursue the relinquishing of control, but i cannot express it any other way. As the extremity of my play increased, as i whipped her harder, bound her tits longer, immobilized and dehumanized her more and more, i found tranquility from the demons of the secular world that pound upon my hull. More surprising, however, is what i have learned about my motivation; that what drives this passion to push more and more is to seek, accomplish and witness the same sensation of my own submissive letting go.
As i was thinking about this recently, the most vivid example of it came to me from one of my favorite videos in my (overly) vast collection. The folks over at Torture Galaxy (talk about living upto a name) crafted this specific thrill ride involving some rather serious tit torture. I'm not an avid fan of tit torture. If i could eat only one cuisine, it would most likely be stringent bondage (with a little dehumanization/objectification tossed in). But there are certainly scenes that involve a girl and her delicious tits getting the full brunt of her dominant's sadism that hit the spot. This was one of them. And OH what a spot it hit.
The setup:
A shop, like one that a carpenter or a metalworker might have. Tools, both for torture and fabrication purposes, hang on the walls. The girl is seated in a chair that has a metal frame on her side and over her head. Her legs are duct-taped to the vinyl seat. Her arms are taped to armrests that sit about waist level. Her back is firmly resting on the rear of the chair. She is topless, and wearing only a garter belt and stockings on her bottom.
The first act:
In walks the dominant. He positions in front of her two blue vice grips that have had, in their flat plates, pins driven through them. They look like rectangular venus fly traps with endless rows of fangs on both their bottom and upper jaws. He places each tit in a separate vice, and squeezes the trigger, ratcheting down on the meat of her tit. She lets out a gloriously hungry moan as she feels the pins impressing on her flesh. He applies a Hitachi wand to her cunt, taping it in place, and she immediately reacts. Her eyes roll in the back of her head. A few minutes of this, he cuts her hands free, which quickly move to the same triggers he'd earlier squeezed, and she proceeds to slowly vice her tits, tighter and tighter, hungry for the pain in her chest and the fulfillment in her loins.
The second act:
He removes the vices. You see symmetrical rows of pink polka dots sprinkling along the surface of her skin. He moves quickly. He grabs a 10-inch long metal skewer, and impales her right tit, just on the inside of the bulb of flesh, piercing from underneath, through the tit, and out up through the top. He continues to move quickly. He mirrors this on the inside of the left tit. He then adds two more skewers on the outside of each mound. She shrieks, a tiny gasp, every time the sharp point punctures her flesh. Continuing to move quickly, he takes thick rubber bands and runs one from the top of each inner skewer, across her chest, to the corresponding skewer on the other side. He repeats this on the bottom. This stretches out her tits, pulling them inward toward the center. Next, he takes S-shaped, double-headed fasteners, anchors these off of the outside skewers, attaches rubber bands to these, and then pulls the thick elastic out to posts on the metal frame situated on either side of her.
For a final touch, he uses three 1/2 inch play piercing needles, and threads these under the surface of each of her nipples. At this point, you can see her starting to leave her body. Her eyes are glazed. She's not even reacting to the needles pushing through. Her mouth is hanging partially open, and goosebumps are raised all over her flesh. He feeds clear fishing line in and out of each needle, fastening these to a block hanging above her head. He ratchets this until her tit lifts up from her chest. He reapplies the Hitachi, and then hands her a manual staple gun.
The third act:
By this point, from the effect of the Hitachi and her tits being pulled in all directions, the girl has disappeared. She is no longer situated in front of the camera. Her body is there, but her mind is obliterated, floating somewhere near Jupiter. The demon occupying her body cavorts with her hands to move the staple gun to the top of her right tit, and place it against the surface of her skin.
I remember watching this the first time (i've viewed it over 45 times), and shaking my head in complete befuddlement that this girl might actually pull the trigger on the staple gun. This creature no longer occupied any mortal world i knew. Her appetites had turned into two sharp prongs: pain and pleasure. I wanted so badly to watch her wound herself. I wanted to see her desire completely invert how all of the best practices her "upbringing" had instructed her: You do not staple your body.
SNAP!*
The first staple impaled her. She yelps. Another.
*SNAP!*
Yelps again, but they are getting deeper. The demon is growing more present. She draws a line of 10 staples on the top of her tit. She moves to the left. 8 more snaps. 8 more guttoral moans.
The Hitachi continues to violently shake into her cunt. Her dominant, deliciously wicked, ups the ante. He removes the back of the chair she was resting on, so that her body is angled back, and all that is supporting her are the contrivances slung viciously through her tits. She roars in ecstasy. Her body is starting to shudder, and just when i think she has completely departed, her arms reach up, and grab ahold of the elastics stretching from the outside of her tits to the frame. Her head arches back. She's putting as much weight on these anchorings as possible, and then, she begins to yank hard on the rubberbands. She's screeching into the air, as her bound thigh muscles jerk wildly in their place. Liquid is gushing out of her pummeled cunt, until finally the last eruption occurs, and she falls limp.
What deserves immediate mention is that i do not know what stage of training this girl is at. I don't know much about her at all, in fact. I do not know how far she has come from how inexperienced she was, or whether she immediately took to this form of treatment. I know, however, that this is not her first time. That is clearly evident. What is also evident, at least in this video, is the level of care, concern and comfort her dominant offers her following this ordeal. He is soft. He strokes her face, her hair. His hands dictate his gratitude, running gracefully over her flesh, communicating with her by touch. A touch that has stepped down in magnitude from its violent, piercing statements before, and now welcomes her back, slowly, to the land of the living.
He praises her for letting go. This is a gift of endless treasure.
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