Another new girl arrives at the Schloss and finds herself in double trouble on her first day. Unfortunately for her, Gord thinks she's perfect Barbie material and hood ornament fodder.

It's the only way to travel, at least from a driver's point of view. I guess we should have asked the caged hood ornament, but then, a bound lady in captivity hardly has a say in the matter.

Anna gets to be the double hooded mascot. Hooded as in head and hooded as in mounted on the Hood. Those cinch straps have her squashed down tight. The gag forces her to be a bit quieter than normal, but I think this hood ornament will still turn heads in traffic.

Fayth is fettered with heavy rubber padding inserted between the bone protuberances of her wrists and ankles so we can stretch her super tight. But not tight enough to stop her using her heels to jiggle Gord's balls in a most disconcerting manner, all with that innocent look on her face.

The look vanished as Gord finished cinching her and stood up with a grin.

"Okay Fayth, you had your fun, now it's payback time."

This week we are trying out another transport device, probably destined to appear in the race movie as Gord leaves the track in a truck festooned with his winnings; all of which would be female of course. This set should have been called the Triple B section: Boots, Boobs, and Butt. We just love this gal in this format. She's a super curvy gal anyway, but her body seems to accept really tight cinching and in doing so one can produce lots of extra super curvy warm female curves to stroke.

Yet another great week at House of Gord. Not without trauma. Lots of corporate bullshit and reorganisation going on. Then Anastasia came back, raring to go. So the trials and tribulations of everyday life suddenly faded into insignificance. What we're planning for Anastasia is to transpose the House of Gord treadmill hopping scene into a portable transport system for moving bound ladies around in the most traumatic way possible. Traumatic for them that is!

Here, we welcome yet another new lady to the House of Gord. Mya appeared briefly in the San Francisco Café scene a few weeks back and, having met her, we invited her up to test her metal on some Gordian contraptions. As it happened she came at a very advantageous time. We were looking for a flexible drop-dead stunner to test out a new prototype Hood Ornament device designed around the capabilities of Claire Adams. Mya proved to a perfect subject for the tests.

THE ULTIMATE DRIVING MACHINE - Yet another gorgeous gal, radio control fucked at The House of Gord.

This week Joelle, on her first visit to the House of Gord, is testing out a new transport device. (And before you write to complain that these devices are ridiculously impractical and look very precarious... Er! Dudes, you are totally missing the point. That is EXACTLY what they are supposed to look like. This is fantasy land, guys. We have no intention of fucking off down a public road with a gal mounted like that. At least, not at this time and until the law changes. :-)

Yet again, a double feature, but this time introducing four of the magnificent playful ladies that festoon the hallowed halls of Gord Mansion. First, The English Tart gets her brains fucked out by the machine we nicknamed "The Jolly Go Round". Then, our three other feisty ladies, Jewell Marceau, Petra, and the new gal on the block Ceci Delores, are upended on the mobile "Tri-Truck-Transport" system. apparently watching the ground whiz by with hair dragging on the ground is an "exhilarating" experience.

Here we see the very first run of a prototype Puppy Walker. It may not seem as extreme as our normal bondage gigs, but it is every bit as inescapable. Six calf straps ensure that the lady's legs are going nowhere, and a pair of link cuffs keeps her hands out of trouble. Two more straps ensure that her torso maintains the correct posture: back arched, bitch-on-heat rump rearing, and ready for action.

Lady Serena converted into an engine. Lady Serena is Gord's Fem-car. Lady Serena, bedecked in her shiny catsuit, copper sheathed and hooded, armsheathed with the trusty Ledermeister armsheath, is made ready for her maiden voyage as gob-smacked crowds look on. But before we crank up this helpless, somewhat nervous damsel-engine, and streak off into the sunset of San Francisco, California.