This blog contains adult-themed illustrations all of which represent fictional adult characters in fantasy erotic situations.

Please leave if you are offended by such images.

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Boot Hoods


Boot hoods as the icing on the boot suit cake – compelling in fantasy but challenging in practice. Unless your Mistress was bequeathed a pair of Porthos’ old boots it is unlikely that the eager submissive head will fit into the reluctant dominant leg of the boot. It might just be possible for a slightly-built submissive to work his smaller bonce into the upper part of a fairly loose thigh boot but the result will be even more comic than erotic.


The answer is for the boot to be transformed into a hood by modification. It will require a good old-fashioned cobbler or leather worker and a suitable pair of boots, one of which provides the leather to adapt the other. The leg of the boot must be split at the back and front (if required), so that boots with front and back seams are especially suitable. A gusset made from the leg leather of one boot is then sewn into the rear split of the other and fitted with lacing as shown in the illustration above – or with a zipper. A strappable collar is also sewn to the open end of the boot which can be strap-attached to other restraining treats.

The gusset can be sized to allow the “face” of the boot to remain intact with just breathing holes or eye holes fitted or, as shown here, with one of Madam’s old shoes sewn to the front as a face piece.

The resultant sensation is very much of being inside Madam’s boot, especially if one of Her stockings is first pulled down over the head, and is suitable for shaming games or longer periods of contemplation bondage. With a boot suit or bondage bag the submissive can be put to hampered work or consigned to immobilised captivity.

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So . . .


. . . to use a topical intro word, I like illustration and art of all kinds. I used to regularly visit art galleries and collections to admire the eclectic and awesome skills on display. But, perhaps oddly judging by the habits of fellow kinksters, I never felt the need to remove the paintings, take them home and then hang them on the fence up the road for other people, strangers to me, to admire. And anonymously too! What a strange satisfaction, to misappropriate the rights of the creator, undermine his or her livelihood, for . . . . what? For the clamour of fellow freeloaders who don’t even know who you are? In this age of virtue signalling and moral supremacy how strange that those takers seem to see no shame in that.  Paying the entry fee entitles you to steal the collection?  Hmm.

There is one guy, prolific, who not content with stealing the illustrations, puts his own writing all over them (not even in good English) and his own website address. Shameless. There is another thief who asks for donations and claims that the femdom artists he shows on his site get a percentage of the proceeds. A lie. I’ve never received a penny or dime like that. I’ve never given him permission to show my work. There is a Yahoo Group whose owner cuts and pastes heads and figures from my illustration to create his own stories. Never credits their origin. Has never asked me. But he has a following of fans that I could only dream about. As my friend and mentor Sardax tweeted this morning – “Why f***ing bother?”

I’m a one man band. And old. Dodging my coffin with a few close shaves lately. I’m not a corporate giant and my website is not cluttered with third-party advertising revenue. My bottom line hangs by a thread. My illustration, pursued with passion, supports me in a very modest lifestyle, just about, and my subscription charges are the same as they were in 2008 when I started, nine years ago. If it’s a triumph for you to see as much of my illustration as you can without once putting your hand in your pocket then shame on you. If you like my illustration then please help me to keep going. If I have to stop then the pirated and freeloaded stuff will eventually dry up too. No more NimRod.

But on a happier note there is a small group of regular, loyal and honourable subscribers to whom I’m very grateful for sticking with me and for your patience, thank you, and I apologise to you unreservedly for the delay in site updates recently. Hopefully the wait is worth it.


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Silent Service & Harlequin Leather!


Queen of Hell was one of my first forays into FemDom series illustration, featuring comic strip style plates, all in colour, and set in a fictitious oriental city where legendary Chinese dominatrix Madam Kwan hosts the visit of a noble African lady Madam Miambo, introducing her to the semi-permanent “guests” who both suffer and find exquisite pleasure at her hands. Prior to creating it I had drawn single, standalone pieces in monochrome pen and ink with half-tone shading and odd splashes of colour such as red lips. Queen of Hell introduced other staple characters into the limited and repetitive gamut of FemDom plot, including her assistant Bonita and the property developer and businesswoman Madam Chang.


Madam Miambo’s harlequin leather skirt with its zipper, lacing and heart appliqué decoration both dates the illustration and my fetish reverie! Not much of that styling around these days and leather fashion has become more “mechanised” and masculine. There is little or no photographic retro imagery in the modern scene beyond the “classic” governess style (for which we are grateful) and that frozen, pretentious and almost twee juxtaposition in advertising hypocrisy. The furtive, underground bizarre seems to have fallen by the wayside at the same rate as its commercial exploitation has flooded the mainstream. The youthful, harnessed, Brando-cap wearing and booted Domina has become ubiquitous, reflecting an emancipation that has effectively destroyed its own ‘kink’. Strangely, bizarrely, FemDom was somehow more powerful in the era before post-feminism and the bandwagon. Fortunately there are still a few young Dominas who strike out and plough their own furrow in classy leather that brings together femininity and power in a hypnotic, heady brew. More power to their whip-arm elbows!


Trout’s formidable landlady wearing her favourite black and green leather harlequin coat!

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Let’s Get Technical


The shoe-gag illustration from Salon of Shame seemed to trend well on Twitter but although shoe-gags are popular very few of those commercially available do what they are supposed to do. With the toe of the shoe inserted into the mouth under tension the heel naturally springs back and either bounces about in an unseemly way or has to  be pulled up by the tension of additional straps. But that can be a clumsy arrangement. Also the toe in the mouth treatment means that the aromatic interior of the shoe is held away from the submissive’s face.  It seems like a good idea but doesn’t work very well in practice. The toe in the mouth treatment is best left for when Madam’s foot is in the shoe and providing its impetus!

The design in my illustration puts the interior of the shoe over the mouth and nose and holds it there tightly. The open part of the shoe fits the mouth and nose naturally, like a surgical gas mask but allows breathing at the sides. The toe of the shoe also finds a natural position under the chin and can even push against the collar protected throat slightly in a punitive way that the gaggee is aware of. The head harness incorporates a strap attached to the heel of the shoe to hold it tight against the face. This can be a fairly short strap secured to the  buckle on a matching strap from the head harness which goes over the head. The tightly strapped shoe and side straps ensure that it won’t slide about but it has to be secured last. Before the shoe-gag is imposed a large soft rubber ball can be inserted into the mouth under the stocking. The insole of the shoe will prevent its ejection, effectively combining a ball-gag and shoe-gag. The shoe-gag can be worn for fairly long periods, during maid-service for example, and creates a humiliating, shoe-fetish intense appearance in role play.


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When Horace’s formidable wife had warned him that she planned to “boot him out” he had no idea what she had in store for him. For many years she had expected him to keep her prized footwear collection clean and polished, but as it grew to fill a room of its own on every wall from floor to ceiling the task had become arduous. His fastidious wife expected each pair of shoes or boots to be cleaned and polished before and after she wore them each time and he was required to do all the housework too. The last spark of rebellion in Horace had been crushed long ago and now he wallowed in defeated subservience   There was no rest for him. The moment he returned from the office he was kept busy as his wife’s maid and dresser. It was inevitable that haste led to clumsiness and unsatisfactory work, much to his wife’s displeasure.

A pair of boots had not been cleaned. Horace thought he had plenty of time to attend to them before she next required them but forgot all about it. His horror at seeing the mud still on the boots when she summoned him to put them on her was matched by her anger.”I’m going to boot you out for this!” she warned him as he knelt to lick the boots clean in penance and his hope soared for a blissful freedom. But later that evening she telephoned her favourite Bootique Booteuse, Madam Fifi, an expert at fashioning exquisite leather to adorn the legs and feet of her customers. Madam Fifi was briefed on the unusual pair of boots desired, incorporating the very boots that Horace had neglected, and she laughed delightedly at the assignment, contemplating rather greedily the number of hides required and the profit she would make. The outcome you see below – Horace “booted” and “out” in shame for his misdemeanour. A happy outcome for Horace’s wife and Madam Fifi, and for all the ladies amused by the perambulating Horace filled boot, but far from happy for poor booted Horace who had failed to show devotion to his wife’s boots!


More bizarre and intriguing FemDom illustration and stories at my complete gallery website Studio Oridoman.

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The Burden!


Installed with the approval of his formidable Wife as a human coat rack in his Mother-in-Law’s small first-floor beauty salon, Fong is beginning  to regret agreeing to the bizarre punishment. But he had been caught philandering yet again and was desperate not to be thrown out by the two businesswomen whom he depended upon for his income. For past indiscretions he had endured beatings with the rattan handle of a feather duster and being made to kneel in shame with a vase balanced precariously on his head but this was something new and had obviously required preparation.

His Mother-in-Law’s lady customers seemed curiously unperturbed by the spectacle of Fong in stringent bondage serving as the salon coat rack, as though they had expected nothing less. As he began to suffer the weight of their heavy leather coats the hapless Fong realised with sudden dread that his Mother-in-Law had never said how long he must suffer this extraordinary penance! Surely the terrible ordeal would not be a permanent arrangement?


Now Fong’s Wife and Mother-in-Law knew exactly where he was and what he was doing!

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Forniphilia (Part Two)


The search for the perfect salon chair goes on! The submissive male providing a seat for his Mistress is quite a common theme and fairly established imagery at the various Atelier galleries. But more often than not it is symbolic rather than completely fetishised. The naked male on all fours, perhaps hooded, but otherwise unrestrained, suggesting a willing submission to support Madam’s lovely derriere. To show Her power and his ignominy. Seldom, if ever, is the male slave reduced to the kind of stringently inventive objectification that is the fate of female submissives at the likes of House of Gord. . .


. . . with that suggestion of permanent reduction that is unlikely in reality but oh so compelling in fantasy. The human form compressed and sheathed (in leather of course – but latex if you insist), strapped, laced, zippered or even sewn into a convenient helplessness, absolutely silenced, and then used in a disregarding sort of way that compels both anonymity of form and worthlessness. A servicing fate, to await, to support, to long for, even to ogle the unattainable in the ultimate adoration. The presence of Madam is a necessary visual juxtaposition of power but to contemplate a “chair”, alone, unattended, waiting to be put to use, creates a frisson of extra indifference.

Both exploratory sketches of salon chairs above are unpublished but for further journeys into the fantasy genre visit Madam Tao’s Human Furniture Emporium at my gallery website www.studio-oridomain.com

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