Tag Archives: boxing gloves

Video: Prison Bitch

Martin straps on hard-rubber punching-gloves

“Don’t you fuckin’ try anything,” prison guard Martin Thorn, naked from the waist down, tells Levy Foxx as he unbolts the nearly naked prisoner from the wall, turns him around and reattaches him, facing out. Levy is one sexy captive. Terrified, Levy can only imagine the worst as Martin straps on hard-rubber punching-gloves. “You’re about to get a taste of what happens to pretty boys like you in prison,” Martin says. He pounds Levy’s abs, chest and sides with dozens of hard blows, one after the other, making the captive gasp in agony. Levy will soon hang on that wall, naked, covered with his own cum, for hours.

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Title of this shoot: Levy Foxx – Prison Bitch – Part 3

he unbolts the nearly naked prisoner from the wall

Video: Jared tortures Timarrie with boxing gloves and electro

Soldier Timarrie Baker is a total fantasy — solid muscle from head to toe, young and beautiful, with piercing eyes, a luscious mouth and a huge, gorgeous, uncut cock. In other words, he was made to be bound, displayed naked and mercilessly tortured.

 

And so he is, his arms cuffed behind his back and chained to a steel collar around his throat, his legs spread and cuffed, his neck chained to the ceiling. Now Jared is going to see if those muscles are just for show, punching Timarrie’s abs and pecs with hard-rubber gloves, then cuffing his wrists over his head and shocking his muscles with a high-voltage cattle prod. “I’m a soldier in the United States Army!” Timarrie continues to insist, as if Jared gives a shit.

Jared tortures Timarrie

Title of this shoot: Timarrie Baker – Young Private – Part 5

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big black muscle stud in bondage

The Boxer’s Gloves: Two Points of View

By slavebladeboi

Part 1: The Boxer

It was only as I was passing the table in the hallway on my way down to the dungeon that I glanced down and noticed them. The slave was in the habit of buying me little presents from what remained of his allowance for running the Fireblade at the end of the month and on this occasion it had been a pair of black leather sparring gloves. I picked them up and looked at them. They had arrived in the post the previous morning and I often mused as to whether the postman wondered about the anonymous parcels that we received on a regular basis.

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