Tag Archives: BDSM

Gold Bullion

Photo from “Electro Sizzling Shock”

Greetings,

Have not yet had a chance to read post comments. Was writing about a gold bullion heist (Electro Sizzling Shock) and half watching an old flick starring Barbara Eden entitled The Brass Bottle when a trunk of gold bullion materialized on screen. Instantly riveted I watched actor Tony Randall discussing  both fiat currency and gold bullion with a centuries-old genie. Randall actually says something to the effect of: “If people could start making their own currency the whole country would collapse.” Imagine that. Check out the whole scene (begins shortly before 35-minute mark) if you can; dialogue seems oddly prescient given current events of the day. Incidentally, The Brass Bottle inspired director Sidney Sheldon to create the I Dream of Jeannie TV series.

This evening I have already posted:

“Beguiling blonde from netherworld… Incendiary emerald… Gold bullion heist unparalleled!”
Will chief operative Johan succeed in making Agent Tanya talk??

Still working on updates but will return shortly to answer blog comments. Hope everyone is having a great Wednesday!

XO Tanya

 

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Tanyastroika

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Greetings,

After my release from Soviet captivity (pics above) I headed to Granny’s Donuts this morning. Every Granny’s location bears signage with “GRANNY’S DONUTS” spelled out in same distinctive font, leading one to believe that a single franchising entity must have spawned all of them. However, the shops bear little resemblance to one another. Today’s destination boasted friendly proprietress, altar offering grapes to deity, and large table with a dozen loud Vietnamese (?) men speaking animatedly in their native tongue. All fell silent when one man, possibly the proprietress’ husband, played Celine Dion on his phone. Beautiful voice, heavy lyrics floated over hushed room until song ended and rapid-fire conversation resumed. Episode felt a bit surreal and I want to find name of that song. Will always wonder what significance, if any, it had to those assembled.

Aside from kitten mission which I mentioned in last post life has been progressing as usual. Generally I rise early, jog, get coffee someplace, return home by noon to edit material/post photo and video updates.  One day last week, en route to donut shop du jour, I encountered a familiar face outside my building. “That looks like…    nah, it can’t be… ” I told myself, unwilling to believe that random person from past had materialized so close to home. Man in question was standing by a row of parked cars and yelling at the top of his lungs toward the residential complex next to mine. I kept walking when suddenly our eyes locked. He blinked in surprise. We stared at one another. “You disappeared.” he said laughing. “When I called your phone you had another lady answer it and then you both started making fun of me.” I replayed the statement in my head because it had no bearing on reality. “That never happened.” I said seriously, as if rational words and truth could somehow jerk him back to his senses. At that moment another man walked up behind me on the sidewalk, sternly informing my old acquaintance: “She’s not at home. She’s at work right now.” I took the opportunity to depart quickly as the two men engaged in tense conversation. For whatever reason the incident unsettled me and I headed to crisp, corporate, predictable Starbucks instead of a random donut joint.

Ensconced in Starbuck’s table by window I crawled into wormhole, got lost in fascinating book. Thirty minutes later I jerked bolt upright when erratic figure veered toward plate glass as if he might crash right through it. For second time that day I looked up into the face of my not-so-long-lost old acquaintance.  He began laughing, took a lengthy moment to scrutinize open page of book I was reading, and then disappeared down sidewalk. Reminded of his startling ability to process details I finally wondered why this intelligent man had ended up screaming on a street corner like a crazed degenerate. Honestly, it still bothers me a tad. And brings me back to the original notion of this past post: it seems like there are some especially potent narcotics floating around our streets these days.

Anyways, I am preparing for a shoot today but felt like transmitting a few words/pics as I finish Granny’s coffee. Photos come from just-released Tanyastroika, a bondage/electroplay custom video commissioned by none other than frequent blog commentator Johan 😉 I will return this evening to answer more post comments. Hope everyone is having a great Tuesday!

XO Tanya

 

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Blonde Dahlia

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I have probably lost more than 3/4 of the content I’ve shot over the years.  Recently I came across photos from a shoot entitled Blonde Dahlia but couldn’t locate the video anywhere. Vague memories of the text description I’d written for the video loomed in my head, tormenting me. No record of those words seemed to exist anyplace on my computer, blogs, or various electronic devices. Frustrated, I wandered out onto a balcony atop my building. A truly monstrous green Plymouth Valiant lurked below.  It looked like someone had submerged it in a swamp for 20 years and then driven it back into civilization. Immediately I pulled out a pad and began writing:

Blonde Dahlia

Water-logged behemoth floats toward fishermen in Gulf of Mexico. Upper right headlight peers at them like seaborne monster scouting prey. Men drop rods and flee. Recent Hurricane Geneva has deposited unusual debris near shoreline but this metal wreckage carries strong presentiment of evil.

Slime green coche,
Rociada con seafoam,
Dripping with algae.

Border town authorities hear talk, eventually extract 1970 Plymouth Valiant from water. Pristine, white dahlia flutters unnoticed to ground as salvage crew uses crowbar to pry open trunk. Blonde hair, slight movement inside vehicle cause lead investigator to freeze, scarcely able to believe that any life could stir within bestial, drifting sepulcher..

Angry God,
Electrified ocean,
Entrega la sirena blanca,
A la salvacion.

(Tanya Danielle stars in Blonde Dahlia, a tale of survival in which American damsel relives trials, tribulations suffered at hands of fiendish predator: handcuffs, breast press, masked intruder, strap-on dildo put to multiple uses, unusual BDSM implements, cumshot. Co-produced by Paolo.)

Not sure why I was writing in Spanglish but I saved the words inside my computer under the title “Blonde Dahlia” and began re-editing the photos. Yesterday, finally ready to post the gallery at TanyaTV.com, I searched my computer for the story and somehow came up with the original Blonde Dahlia text that I wrote around 2010 or so.

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Blonde Dahlia (Original)

The gold 1973 El Camino rolls to a stop. Heavy footsteps advance toward it from across a gravel driveway. A man’s gruff voice orders someone to make sure that the street is clear. The speaker waits a beat and then pulls back a tarp which covers the rear of the vehicle. A startled expression registers on his face. He stares at the woman who lies motionless inside of the El Camino’s bed. Coarse ropes bind each of her wrists and ankles to metal rings. This lady seems different than her predecessors. Somehow she radiates a clean, wholesome energy even though her eyes express nothing but cold resignation. Her aura discomfits him, triggers a latent sensation of remorse that he would like to dismiss as soon as it surfaces. He freezes for a few tortured seconds and then manages to squelch all emotion as he sets about freeing her from her restraints. The hostage does not speak. She seems to realize the futility of words. Some of the others had begged. After untying her the man jerks her upward and then onto the pavement. She blinks in the strong sunlight, taking in her surroundings without any perceptible change in demeanor. A large sign spells out “Geneva Motel” in colorful block letters. It looms above the desolate, three-story building which encircles them. “Don’t get any ideas.” her captor tells her in a flat tone of voice. “There is no one around here who will help you. And don’t even think about running. I’m good at picking off moving targets.” Without waiting for a response he grabs her by the elbow and propels her up an outdoor staircase. As they enter unit 214 of the abandoned motel the woman sees that someone is using it as a cramped living space. Camel cigarette butts overflow from an ashtray, empty bottles spill out of several trash cans, and a paperback book lies open on the bed. Incongruously, a vase containing two fresh, yellow flowers sits atop a small table. Her eyes stay glued to the flowers. “She’s here, Leroy.” the man calls out to an unseen person. “I’m going to lock the door behind her.” When her escort takes off the woman hears the sound of running water. A few seconds later a man, presumably Leroy, emerges from a bathroom wearing black pants, a black shirt, and a ski mask. The hostage barely reacts to his presence. Her senses are stupefied beyond shock. “Look at you.. ” Leroy says with a singsong lilt in his voice. “You will do.. You will do just fine.. ” The woman offers no response. “What’s your name?” Leroy prods her. She remains silent. “Wait.. I don’t want to know your name.. ” he surprises himself by saying. A notion has begun germinating in his mind and he grows progressively enamored of it as he studies her. Suddenly his gaze shifts to the vase of yellow flowers and then back to her eyes. Leroy and the woman regard each other for a few long beats and she sees her own reflection in the visor of his mask. “It just came to me.” he reveals. “You are the Dahlia. I will call you the Blonde Dahlia.. “

Amazing how time passes and nothing stays the same. Even that motel dumped its cool, 1960s-era color block sign and replaced it with this:

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Sometimes I feel like life moves on without me. In any case, I have posted a portion of the original Blonde Dahlia gallery at TanyaTV.com. After removing all the Geneva Motel exterior shots I had hoped to insert a pic or two of the Plymouth which inspired the second story. That creepy vehicle still prowls my neighborhood but I haven’t had the nerve to pull out a camera..

XO Tanya

 

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Donita

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I mentioned Donita Dunes a few times during my reminiscences about the Score Magazine Boob Cruise . Was thinking about Donita again this morning and Googled her name. Definitely still retired but she does have a Twitter presence which eluded me before. You can see us both in the Bizarre Video box cover above. I remember that shoot: Bondage Dolls directed by Skye Blue in 2000 or so. I think every model in the video – Shay Sights, Kianna Dior, Summer Cummings, Donita, and myself – still works in the adult industry aside from Donita. Hopefully she will return someday.

XO Tanya

P.S. I seem to recall that Shay Sights and I were joking around a lot on the set  that day, in part trying to antagonize dominatrix Summer Cummings. Consequently, we got a lot more abuse than expected.

 

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