If you don’t keep your hands behind your back, I am going to TIE your hands behind your back!
If you don’t keep your hands behind your back, I am going to TIE your hands behind your back!
For hours. At Dream Boy Bondage. See below for a free preview video clip.
Noah — blond and built — hangs on the cross for several long hours of sheer agony.
Hours have passed. Noah hangs on the cross, cum hardened on his abs after he was jerked off while crucified, his young muscles screaming in pain. If you have ever dreamed of watching a stunningly perfect young man, a lean, blond athlete, suffer on the cross, hour after hour, Noah is your fantasy man, looking so good, glistening with sweat, near the point of passing out, but still managing to pull himself up and fill his lungs. This is real, long-term suffering endured by a strikingly beautiful stud.
See more at Dream Boy Bondage
By Joshua Ryan
“This is Officer Nolan,” he said to his cellphone. “Open A292.” I heard the bars slide back.
“Inside, convict.”
I opened my eyes. There was a gap in the bars. The cell door was open. It wasn’t very wide. It was just the gate to a cage. I could tell that I’d have to tilt my bedroll to get it through. I lifted one side, maneuvering it. I would have to be careful not to let anything drop . . .
Then I saw it. There was something long and thick lying on the lower bunk, something brown that was shaped like a man. There were letters and numbers stamped on its surface. It was a convict, lying face down in my cell. Wait a minute! Couldn’t the officer see that the place was already full?
I almost blurted that out. Then I remembered: there were two convicts stuffed in all those other cells. That bundle of clothes on the bunk was only one convict. I was the other one.
I stopped in the doorway. I was scared to wake up that thing on the metal shelf. Jesus, it was dark in there, especially after the spotlight I’d faced outside. I could see a naked lightbulb hanging from the ceiling, but it wasn’t turned on. The only light was the gray stuff leaking in from the walkway. That was enough for me to see that the whole cell wasn’t much larger than a medium-sized closet. It was a lot smaller than my bathroom at home. What used to be my home. Half the cell was bunks, one shelf above the other on the right side, against the wall. A lot of the rest was toilet — a metal toilet squatting against the back wall, a toilet without a seat, with something that looked like a little sink built into the top of it. The thing was gleaming at me in the faint light. Christ! I thought. They wash in the shitter. A wave of contempt ran through me. Probably one of them crapped while the other one washed his face in the crapper. They were like cats in a cage, with a little litterbox all their own. And now I was one of them.
By lthr_jock
Clark reacted with shock as they headed towards the door – surely Greg didn’t mean to parade him in public like this. He held back and the leash tightened. Without looking around, Greg yanked on it and Clark felt his upper half jerk forward. He tried to brace himself but something made him lose his balance and he staggered forward. Greg turned as Carl burst out laughing. “Greg, you were right. Those boots work a treat.”
Clark looked down with confusion – the boots looked just like the heavy boots he had seen skinheads wearing in the street. But for some reason they felt slippery and unstable under his feet and he had to concentrate to keep his balance on them. Carl picked up another pair of the boots and turned them around so Clark could see the soles. Instead of a normal heel, they had a 2” heel on them and instead of a thick rubber tread they were smooth. “You see, the heel puts your balance off and the slippery sole makes it easy to pull you further off balance. We call them the Slave-maker.” Greg frowned and Carl continued “Ok, the name is a work in progress, but lucky you, you get to road test them for us.”
Greg yanked on the leash again and Clark stepped carefully towards the door. He was having to concentrate on where he was stepping and was taking steps so small that the boot shackles were almost irrelevant. Before he realised it, they were at the lifts. Greg stood there, tapping his crop against his boot with impatience. He turned to face Clark with a wicked grin on his face “You know what, let’s take the stairs.” Clark tried to complain but the gag filled his mouth stopping him and he could do little except hobble along behind Greg as the leather clad man tugged him towards the stairs.
It just keeps getting better and better at Dream Boy Bondage. See below for a free, high-def video clip of Jared, who is hot as fuck. In this shoot, Jared is stretched to the max on the rack as his back and ass are brutally flogged, every muscle taut and bulging:
After hours on his back, his balls stretched almost to the ripping point, with electric current running through his lean body for minutes at a time, Jared is now laid on the rack, face down, his beautiful ass and back vulnerable and ready for the whip. He knows he will be brutally flogged. He knows he will be stretched to his breaking point. What he doesn’t know is that he will be whipped and stretched at the same time – and then left in total agony overnight.
Here is a free video clip — and be sure to click to watch this in hi-res mode:
See more like this at Dream Boy Bondage
Check out what happens to Logan at Roped Studs — and see below for a free, hi-def video clip.
Talk about a roped stud fantasy: Lean, well-built Logan, covered with whip marks, is roped beautifully to the bondage frame, his massive cock rock hard. When his dick starts to sag just a bit, rope man J.J. gives it a few strokes and it stiffens immediately. Then J.J. gets out his electric wand, using it to torture the roped man’s cock, balls and nipples, making his eyes literally roll back into his head. But no matter what, Logan stays hard – even after J.J. milks him dry, again.
Here is a free video clip — and be sure to click to watch this clip in hi-def:
See more like this at Roped Studs
See more like this at Boot Lust
Some pics from the vault