At DaddysBondageBoys.com, it’s time for squats, nice and deep. Weights are tied to Jessie’s balls and when he goes up he feels the weight. When he goes down the weight is lifted. How long can Jessie hold that squat position? Colin Steel is going to make sure it’s a long time.
Tags: weights, ropes, bdsm, sub, dom, masturbation, sweat, piercings
See the VIDEO at DaddysBondageBoys.com
Title of this shoot: Exercise Gets Hard, Part 8
Models: Colin Steele, Jessie Balboa
By lthr_jock
Brian Watling exhaled sharply as he completed his last bench press and put the weights bar back in place. He sat up, grabbing his bottle of water and his towel as he sat for a moment before standing up and stretching his aching muscles. As he did, he looked at himself in the mirror – for a 53 year old man, he was doing pretty well. At 6ft tall, he still retained a good deal of the muscle mass from his youth. Regular workouts had ensured that he didn’t put on the paunch that so many of his colleagues had developed and a couple of minor operations had ensured that he retained a good head of hair. Most people assumed he was in his late 30’s – until they considered that he had been the chairman of Watling Inc for over 20 years.
Brian headed for the showers but before he could get there, the intercom chimed. “Sorry to disturb you Mr Watling but your son is here to see.” Muttering a curse, he wondered what that useless parasite wanted now. His only son had been a constant disappointment to him, more interested in lazing around than hard work. As a result, Brian had kicked his son out three years ago and now lived alone in the sprawling mansion. “Tell him to wait in the drawing room. No, wait, send him through. Let’s get this over with.”
He took a long swig from his water bottle and sat down on the weights bench waiting for Geoff to arrive. The door to the gym swung open after a few minutes and Geoff walked in – both shorter and less muscular than his father, he reminded Brian of his long-deceased mother. As usual, he was wearing what Brian though of as chav couture – shiny black Adidas tracksuit and baseball cap and undoubtedly ruinously expensive trainers. Brian sighed. “Geoff. What do you want?”
By Bikermike
Nick and Trev often met at the bikers’ cafe to exchange general bike talk, or more often than not, a talk about their sexual adventures. These included tales and anecdotes concerning their experiences and desires in the world of male-to-male bondage and sadomasochism. They had experimented together on a few occasions; once or twice within a group of three or more men. However, Trev had a regular BDSM ‘partner’, whom he called Roger and sometimes referred to him as his Master, while Nick had to make do with whoever he could find on Recon and who also lived within a reasonable distance.
One hot day during the summer both men met at the cafe and spent several minutes ogling other male bikers, some of which were posing minus their leather bike jackets and T shirts exposing their muscled torsos. Nick said ‘I sometimes fantasise about life in a borstal; y’know, how it was several decades ago when the gaolers wouldn’t hesitate using canes and the birch to maintain discipline. I have read accounts of boys who had been birched and abused, which have really turned me on. Wouldn’t it be great if you and I could somehow live that fantasy for a weekend? Punishment and birching and all?’
By Bikermike
At 28 years old Jack was dissatisfied with his body despite spending as much time in the local gym as he could spare. True, he was 6 feet 3 inches tall with a 39-inch chest and 29-inch waist, but he was not getting anywhere as much sex as he wanted. For some reason, his Recon profile got hardly any response. But one morning as he was reading the very few messages that Recon had forwarded to him, a “ping” announced that someone had cruised him. He had a look and read the guy’s profile. It read:
Strict physical training offered. Limits pushed. Encouragement given where appropriate.
Send respectful message.
The photographs were of a very gym-fit man, shirtless, his chest and arms replete with tattoos, wearing tight fitting shorts that accentuated his genital bulge. He looked as though he had last shaved his face and scalp a fortnight previously. His profile stated that he was 40-something years old. Other photographs were of a gym with free weights, chin bars and benches; they also showed heavy steel manacles and instruments of punishment, including whips, canes and paddles. The guy lived some 30 miles distant. That made a change: most of the men that interested Jack seemed to live on the other side of the country or even abroad. Intrigued, he sent him a message.
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By lthr_jock
I have trouble getting to sleep. The pad on the floor of the cage isn’t thick enough to stop me feeling the bars on the floor of the cage. I can’t fully stretch out and the two layers of rubber are making me sweat and I’m lying in a pool of it. Every move is accompanied by a squeak of rubber and a puff of air that is laden with sweat. The hood is making my freshly shaved head sweat too, and it feels weird against my hairless skin. Worse, I need to piss and there is no way with the mitts on that I can get my cock out of the two layers of rubber. I try to hold it, but in the end I have to surrender and I feel the hot flow of piss inside my rubber suit. Now the sweat is joined by what feels like a lake of piss. Feeling dirty and humiliated, I eventually fall asleep.
I wake up and for a moment I don’t remember where I am. I try to sit up and bang my head on the roof of the cage. As I reach up to rub it, I see the rubber mitts and I recall what’s going on. There is enough light coming through the blinds to show me the room. I have no idea what the time is and wonder how long until Bob lets me out. I try to sleep again, but I’m really uncomfortable. My balls and cock are aching and are still visible down my leg.
I tentatively touch my cock with my mitted hands and almost immediately it springs back to full size. I can feel the tension around my balls and know that I’m close to cumming and in danger of losing another 24 hours. I try to distract myself my wriggling around to examine the front door of the cage. Each movement reminds me of the mixture of fluids slowly rising inside the rubber suit and I hope that Bob’s plan includes a shower in the near future.
By Atlanta Stud
Brody swallowed hard and was barely able to get out a “Yes, Sir” response to Dave. One quickly realizes how little control he has when he’s buck naked with the exception of wearing a locked chastity device and legcuffs. Dave removed my hinged cuffs and had me clean up the ‘barber shop’ floor while Brody, having free wrists, was instructed to make up his bunk in addition to a few other chores.
With the chores out of the way, Dave called us back to the living area for ‘inspection’ as he put it and told Brody that he’s done well since this morning and he would be rewarded with a pair of sneaks to protect his feet from the old hardwood floors of the cabin. That drew a smile to Brody’s face until he saw that Dave was issuing him my sneaks — and let me tell you those sneaks have, let’s say a character all their own after many wearings without socks and with socks that haven’t seen a washer in several days.
“Your choice, inmate, either stay barefoot, or lace ’em on. I’ll give you five seconds to decide.”
Check out this preview featuring Colin Steele and Jessie Balboa at DaddysBondageBoys.com
The exercises continue with standing on one leg holding a small ball between his legs. Just to make life interesting ropes are attached to the victim’s toes and his balls in an attempt to keep him focused.
Title of this shoot: Exercise Gets Hard, Part 7
Models in this shoot: Colin Steele, Jessie Balboa
See the whole thing and much more at DaddysBondageBoys.com
