Video: Straight frat jock Austin is brutally flogged, spanked and penetrated

Then he pumps out a massive load of cum. Here is a free preview video from the men of Dream Boy Bondage:

 

Shirtless muscle-stud Jared is not done torturing young Austin. He smacks the poor captive’s already lacerated back and ass with the split-head flogger. He even smacks the soles of Austin’s feet. “Now I’m going to fuck you within an inch of your life,” Jared tells the straight jock, showing him a long, rigid “punishment dildo” – one meant to inflict pain. Jared shoves the thing in hard and deep, making Austin – a butt-virgin just hours ago – yelp with agony. Then he wallops Austin’s ass some more, while fucking him, as the poor, naked prisoner squirms and screams. Finally, Jared flips Austin over onto his whipped back and orders him to jerk off. Austin doesn’t disappoint, pumping out a massive load of cum all over his lacerated stomach, thinking he’ll finally be let go. Poor, dumb frat jock. Jared’s got other ideas.

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Title of this episode: Austin – Frat Boy Tease – Part 9

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The Wait

By Steellock

The wait was over!

As a dedicated switch he loved meeting with friends for a few hours; switching roles between top and bottom. Restraining his friends and taunting them with clamps, peg, electrodes; the many and varied toys he had gathered over the last few years. All the while knowing that the boi in his hands would soon be dealing out to him something very similar. It might be the sting of the cane as he was strung up tight to the ceiling or the tap tap tap of the crop on his thigh as he sat, tightly held in his bondage chair.

But soon it would be over. He rarely found a top with the time or the inclination to just restrain him for a long pure session of pure bondage. Imobilised. Zipped and strapped into his sleepsack. Spread-eagled on the bed with leather restraints, chains and padlocks. Securely held in Segufix – perhaps his greatest pleasure. Such tops are either few and far between or expensive!

Continue reading The Wait

Every Dog Has His Day – Part 02

By Thunder

It was an amazing night with Master Jake and my thoughts were conflicted about humanity and dog time and, as he fucked me, I was feeling more and more like a possession, albeit a prized one, with each movement. When Master finished, he left me in place on all fours for a few minutes. I heard the shower running, some drawers opening and closing and finally the light switch indicating he was on his way back. I had known better to move and when he returned he did not say a word before pushing what felt like a telephone pole inside my ass and then hitting the object. I knew I had just been given my first tail and that this would be a moment to treasure.

Master looked me straight in the eyes and asked said, “this is it, you have one last chance to change your mind about spending the next week as my dog, Thunder. You know the rules, the expectations, and it’s all into this one moment when you indicate yes or no. This week you will be allowed more freedom than typical and will use your human voice more, but, even when in that space, know that you are almost a full dog and, within a few months you will be all dog. So, boy, what is your response?” I knew this moment was coming but it still hit me like a brick in that oh so good way. And, really without any real hesitation, I looked right at Master and barked once and quickly jumped off the bed into all fours.

Continue reading Every Dog Has His Day – Part 02

Chronicles of a Slave Trader – Chapter 05

By PredicamentBondage

Things are quite leisurely at the training facility with only two slaves in stock. It was wild a few weeks ago because we had eight on the go but, as it is, I feel like I’m on holiday.

Shit-head has been with us a few days now. So far, it’s spent 24 hours isolated in its pod, exercising and learning how to drink from the water dispenser. Following that, it spent the best part of a day hanging in the factory area being broken. Like its peer resident in the next pod (piss-slit), shit-head has also been through its very first training session, lesson one – SPEECH LAW NUMBER 1.

Today, it’s SPEECH LAW NUMBER 2 and shit-head is already in place, eager to begin (I’m sure).

My little brunette fire-plug is standing in one of the classrooms, one foot on each of two large blocks. The blocks are 3 feet apart so its legs are spread wide. Wrists are in 18th century iron shackles and pulled straight up, forcing the slave onto its toes. It still wears the heavy ball stretcher that it’s involuntarily had to endure for several days, making its balls ultra-sensitive and very tender. Around its neck is a shock collar, the remote control handily in my jeans back pocket.

“Good morning shit-head” I say in greeting.

Continue reading Chronicles of a Slave Trader – Chapter 05