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Drawings by Montycrusto

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Your drawings always offer artistic quality, originality, peculiar cruelty of the predicaments depicted.
One of the best bdsm-themed artworks I've seen recently (and less recenty).



montycrusto said:
"Peril"
View attachment 645374
I'm just obsessed with ponytails and hair-pulling...
The DA prude squad doesn't seem to have spotted the "gentlemanly tumescence" in this drawing, though I had another one deleted which was no worse than this. :)
Click to expand...
 
Jon Smithie said:
Love the mouth filling ball gag. In my humble opinion, most ball gags are simply too small to do an adequate job. This one looks to be juuuuust right. I admire your work. Thanks for posting. BTW, have you done any more work on your series "Strip Searched?"
Click to expand...
"Strip-searched" got deleted (without warning or explanation) by DA; it later emerged that someone had made a complaint to Wix.com (owners of DeviantArt) about my "vile and hateful" portrayal of law-enforcement officers, and bragged about it here: https://defensemaven.io/bluelivesma...3-us-west-2-amazonaws-_w4Jv-n3JEKhisuw6vQ17A/ . I know, ridiculous. If that was the real reason for the complaint, it doesn't break DA's rules. So there's something else going on. Anyway, "Strip-Searched" is in limbo at the moment, not sure what to do with it. :)

I agree, many BDSM artworks are ruined by a too-small ball gag... it has to be a real mouth-stuffer :D
 
The last drawing I completed for "Strip-searched":
scan_20180314_by_montycrusto_dcsaeef-pre.jpg
The plan was to do one more image to round off this section of the story, making 20 pages. Then I'd maybe do a Volume Two some time later, showing this character's torture, trial, and transportation to a penal colony. I might still do some or all of that, but obviously the mass-deletion event has affected my plans. Also, the deletion meant that the accompanying text (story) I wrote for this image was permanently lost.
 
montycrusto said:
The last drawing I completed for "Strip-searched":
View attachment 645837
The plan was to do one more image to round off this section of the story, making 20 pages. Then I'd maybe do a Volume Two some time later, showing this character's torture, trial, and transportation to a penal colony. I might still do some or all of that, but obviously the mass-deletion event has affected my plans. Also, the deletion meant that the accompanying text (story) I wrote for this image was permanently lost.
Click to expand...

Please try to do more.
 
"Oops"
scan_20181014_by_montycrusto_dcsaksx-pre.jpg
"Oops... dropped a contact lens again... where is the damned thing? Oh hey, Trigger, whatcha doing upstairs? Trigger... down boy. Honey! Can you come and get Trig out of the bathroom for me? Oh, no, dammit, Pete's gone to work. Trigger, get off, ya big hairy lump! Bad dog... hehe.. stop that, it tickles... Oh! Trigger, what are you d.... Oooh! Fffucckk!!… Holy shi... Trigger... good boy... ahhh... fuck me harder.... ohhhh… fuck your little bitch you big brute..."

(amazingly, someone reported this as "explicit content" on deviantArt- all seems quite innocent to me :))
 
montycrusto said:
The last drawing I completed for "Strip-searched":
View attachment 645837
The plan was to do one more image to round off this section of the story, making 20 pages. Then I'd maybe do a Volume Two some time later, showing this character's torture, trial, and transportation to a penal colony. I might still do some or all of that, but obviously the mass-deletion event has affected my plans. Also, the deletion meant that the accompanying text (story) I wrote for this image was permanently lost.
Click to expand...
I hope you get around to doing a volume two. I think there's quite a number of us who would love to see it.
 
scan_20170629_by_montycrusto_dcsdc4q-pre.jpg

One Thousand Years of Servitude (story and art by montycrusto)

Princess Ondariel of the Elven People had once been a fearless and gifted warrior. Surrounded and captured by brutal Orcs in battle, she had been disarmed, stripped naked and dragged in chains to the dungeons beneath Castle Malnaguul. The Orcs had intended to ransom her back to her people, but their emissary was killed on sight, riddled with arrows before his message could be delivered. And so Ondariel was lost to her grieving family, who believed her hacked to pieces on the battlefield, while she languished in captivity, the plaything of the depraved Orcs and their insatiable lusts. She was swiftly acquainted with her captors' savage and lascivious ways, becoming an unwilling sex-slave to the entire garrison. They kept her chained in a pit beneath the floor of the deepest dungeon, under a locked iron grille, and hauled her out by her hair whenever they wanted to whip, torture or rape her.

The Elven folk are hardy; unless killed in battle, they are virtually immortal. Ondariel was denied the death that would quickly and mercifully have attended a human woman in such extreme circumstances. She had no choice but to endure the hateful Orcs' relentless abuse, and hope that her ordeal would soon end. But it was not to be. As weeks became months, and months flowed into years, she saw her short-lived rapists and torturers slowly age before her eyes, only to be replaced by fresh tormentors, with new ways to teach her the pitiless hatred that the Orcs felt for their fairer cousins. Meanwhile, she remained unchanged and unchanging, her bruises, bite-marks and whip-scars healing quickly. The Orcs often took pleasure in burning her with hot irons, making her scream with pain, but the seared flesh healed and the brands faded within days. She could not even starve to death, as her lithe body could subsist on even the meagre rations her captors allowed her - mouldy bread and foul water if she was lucky, but sometimes no more than whatever piss and semen she managed to drink from their cocks or lick from the floor.

At first, she dreamed of escape, but her chains were never removed, and the grille was always locked above her head when she was left alone. She was rarely left alone for long; members of the Castle garrison, from the most elite warrior to the vilest servant, often came down to vent their lust or cruelty upon her. They came in ones or twos, or sometimes in larger gangs, clattering down the stone steps bearing flickering torches and whatever instruments of torture they could find or devise, at any hour of the day or night. But day and night were the same to Ondariel, chained to the wall of her tiny cell, deep underground. Daylight was something she saw only in her dreams. And so the years lengthened into decades, and then centuries. Sometimes an Orc Commander would reserve her for his private use for a few years, but mostly she was at the mercy of the common soldiery, a malodorous, sadistic and frequently drunken rabble.

Though outwardly unchanged, Ondariel slowly underwent an inner transformation. She came to tolerate the constant abuse, then welcome it. Her heart beat faster when she heard the guard's key in her lock; when he hauled her out of the pit, she rejoiced, licking his hand and opening her legs as much as her chains allowed. Her loins throbbed every time he uncoiled his whip. She became adept at sex, learning how to make her masters howl with pleasure. Where once she had danced, now she writhed joyfully under their heaving bodies. Where once she had sung songs, now she used her delicate elven tongue and throat to bring her Orc masters to climax, and swallowed their seed gratefully. More and more she loved to be violently taken, on the floor, up against the wall, or hanging from a hook, by rapacious muscular brutes who used her body for their savage pleasure before throwing her back into the pit, leaving her spent, dripping and utterly exhausted.

Slowly, Ondariel forgot her royal Elven parentage. She grew to love her chains, fondling them in the darkness. Sometimes, she was made to suffer cunning devices of Orc manufacture; her head might be imprisoned in a cruel head-cage, with a mouth-stuffing gag built into it, or her ankles would be locked to the ends of a long iron bar, forcing her legs wide apart, and exposing her sex to the cruel whips, hard cocks and hot irons of her torturers. Sometimes she would be hog-tied, suspended in chains, or ring-gagged (though she never bit her captors, not after the first couple of centuries, anyway). She adored these torments, relishing the severe bondage and constant punishment which had become her whole existence, and grovelling at her masters' feet in the most abject submission, begging to be used, and used hard, as the worthless orc-slut she had become.

Many centuries later, it happened that the ancient stronghold of Malnaguul was besieged and captured by Elven invaders. When the victorious Elves explored the dungeon beneath the castle, at the bottom of a stone staircase dangerously worn away by centuries of constant use, they discovered only one prisoner: a female Elf, who resembled that lost Princess they had heard of in songs and legends. Ondariel, that was her name.

But Ondariel was long gone. Here was only a chained slut, who scratched and clawed at her baffled rescuers, and howled for her Orc masters. As soon as she was released, she disappeared. A scout later reported seeing her, stark naked and running towards enemy territory, where he dared not follow for fear of Orc patrols.

~the end.
 
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