VIDEO at Serious Male Bondage
Title of this update: Odds And Ends
Here’s more Super Bowl inspired male BDSM content to check out! This is a football-themed update from Naked Kombat:
Abel Archer is pissed at his teammate, Connor Halsted, for dropping the game-winning pass. The two argue and things get heated, so in full football gear, they go at it. From a three-point stance, shoulder pads clash as they grapple for supremacy. Helmet to helmet, they smack ass and try to gain the upper hand. The fight continues as their cocks swell in their jockstraps and they begin to strip down. With raging hard-ons, they grapple naked, making each other suck cock and finger each other’s asses. In the showers the loser of the bout gets back in the pads and fucked. His cock gets hard under his cup as a hard cock gets slid up his ass. After a hard gear fucking, the loser takes the winner’s cum on his face and has to lick up his own load off of the ball he dropped during the game.
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By Peter B. and Art Intelli
A note from Art: “Here is a short story, soaked in wine, rain, shame, and steel”:
I dinnae remember fallin’ asleep in the alley, but I surely woke up there — flat on my back, cheek pressed to wet stone, and a mouth like I’d been suckin’ on ashes all night.
The bottle was still clutched in my fist — half-empty and warm from my own body. Cheap red wine, the kind that burns more comin’ up than it does goin’ down. The kind that gets you noticed.
And noticed, I was.
I heard him before I saw him — the scrape of leather soles and the hollow clomp of boots with purpose. Then his shadow stretched long over me like a cross at sunset.
I blinked up into his face — his face — that square jaw framed by the kind of gray muttonchops that only grew on men who feared neither sin nor storm. His eyes were cold. Steel blue. Judgmental.
German hunk David Webb is kept chained in a dark room, his uncut cock rock-hard even though he can’t touch himself, his wrists bound above his head. “Cum for me and I’ll let you go,” Tomas De Rico says, unchaining his prisoner’s right wrist. David pumps out a massive load in minutes but, instead of being freed, he is chained on his knees — with a fuck-machine ready to fuck his ass! Tomas, in a white coat, smacks his captive’s ass, shoves the tip of the dildo in and flips the switch, fucking him slow and hard. He turns the machine to full speed and fucks the prisoner’s mouth with another dildo at the same time then leaves him on his knees to be fucked nonstop all night.
Video at Dream Boy Bondage
Title: David Webb & Tomas De Rico: Sanity’s Threshold – Chapter 6
A few months ago, Archie Paige was just an ordinary guy. Now he is a slave, traded among a group of rich, gay men who love to torture and fuck handsome young men. Hooded, in total darkness, he has no idea where he is, how he got there, or who owns him. All he knows is he must do exactly as he is told. A man with a deep voice hangs him from his wrists and inspects his body, beats him with a riding crop, then flogs him hard, groping his wounded flesh and talking the whole time about hurting him. Young Archie yelps in pain with each lash, as tears coat his face and he realizes his new master, Derek Kage, is even crueler than his last.
Video at Dream Boy Bondage
Brody Fox’s punishment continues. Stripped to black shorts and blindfolded in a full hood, the young stud is bound standing, his wrists and ankles in stocks, struggling against his bonds. “Still deviant? Well, I guess we’ll have to beat that out of you,” his tormentor, Ty Roderick, says, strapping on hard-rubber boxing gloves. “Fuck you!” Brody bellows, absorbing blow after blow to his muscular torso. “Is that all you got!” he barks as Ty punches him harder. But gradually he breaks as Ty pummels his core with increasingly brutal blows, shoves a butt-plug up his ass and whips him even harder. The resulting gasps and moans are perfection.
Video at Dream Boy Bondage
By Cuffed Locked
It was a Friday afternoon when I wandered over to Caleb’s garage, as I had dozens of times before. I usually stopped by on Fridays. We had one of those neighborly routines, not quite friends, not quite strangers, but something in between. I’d wander over with a beer and a story from the office. He liked my stories, and I liked watching him work. It was easy. Today, the late-summer heat was thick in the air, and the sound of Caleb’s tools echoed out into the driveway, clinks and whirrs like music he didn’t need speakers for.
His place always looked like the inside of a junkyard exploded and reorganized itself into a workshop. Piles of wires, wood scraps, old appliances taken apart and half rebuilt into God knows what. There was a sort of madness to it, but Caleb had a talent for rigging up stuff that worked. Dangerous stuff, sometimes. Genius stuff, always.
He was working on some half-dismantled snow blower, even though we were still a few months out from the first frost. That was Caleb, always two steps ahead, always building something, fixing something, or taking something apart just to see if he could put it back together better. He was shirtless, and his forearms flexed every time he twisted the wrench.
Before online shopping was a thing, there was the Mr S Catalog. In print. The last picture above was on the cover. I still have my copy. It remains, to this very day, the hottest thing ever published!
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