If you are not careful — or if you are extra lucky, depending on how your dick is wired — you might get stuck in an extreme posture collar, like this one from Sinvention:
You can purchase this high-quality and handcrafted collar — and much more — from Sinvention. Everything is made in Canada.
In this video available at Frock The World, Sir Malice is laced and booted to perfection. His dominant demeanor is undeniable. His property is properly geared up in a leather facemask, a harness and not much more. The first crack of skin is heard when Sir Malice warms up his sub’s ass cheeks with a spanking. That gives way to floggers and then the single thread of a red whip. Limits are pushed and stretched when Sir Malice’s sub is walked into a metal cage for more pleasurable punishment from.
See the video HERE
Site: frocktheworld.com
Title of this video: Impact
Have you been naughty or nice?
At The Church of Sinvention, which is located in Canada, the BDSM gear is handcrafted.
By Taurus
“Oh Gage, you’re getting punished today – some millionaire is losing their shit today and you’re paying for it.”
Gage could not question the guard who jeered at him. He may weigh 223 pounds, a fearsome strongman with lush carpets reverently adorning his chin and chest, but man-fur was not the only thing stuck to him; a very powerful shock collar was too. He was completely naked, and his cock – if absent all external reference, looking like a micropenis despite the help of a steel cock ring – dangled between his legs.
He knew better – he had six inches whenever he was permitted to.
Wisely, he stomached the mocking and walked with his head straight and his hands behind his back into the competition hall where his three opponents – identically dressed as him – had been stretching. He joined them.
By POW
Voices erupted from the gallery. The shabby small-town lawyer blinked as if blindsided, his face somehow managing to comically express both consternation that he wouldn’t need any of the arguments he had assembled and relief that they wouldn’t get eviscerated by his opponent. The opponent, meanwhile, simply opened up his briefcase and started packing papers into it, just another day’s work, this one easier than most. Bystanders in the courtroom gossiped with their neighbors; the deputies smirked knowingly at each other; the bailiff watched the judge for a cue what he should do.
The sheriff was the only one actually looking at Sam and the expression on his face was that of a cat eyeing a trapped mouse. Sam met his eyes and stared, letting the clamor in the courtroom wash over him until Judge Jack banged his gavel on the bench. “Order!” The voices died down and calm settled once again over the courtroom.
“Let the record show that the defendant has pled guilty to all charges. Sam Green, I hereby sentence you to hard labor, sentence to commence immediately and continue until restitution for your crimes has been made. Sheriff, you’ll see to the details? Dismissed!” The gavel came down again. Bystanders stood and began filing out; the maître d’ and the various Jack clones in their various outfits left through other doors, and in short order the space was empty save for Sam and Sheriff Jack.
Continue reading Captain Jack and the Race to Redula – Chapter 10: Keep Moving
By POW
Unical date: unchanged
Sam rolled his eyes. You have got to be kidding me.
Captain Jack’s voice sounded exactly like the voice of the guard he had replaced… which meant he sounded like all the guards. “Too corny?” he asked. “Yeah, I agree. A pirate might don an ensemble like this at a ball, perhaps, if he wanted to catch the eye of some starry-eyed sailor on shore leave, dazzle him, seduce him and abuse him and rob him blind and ditch him the next morning. But it’s completely impractical for everyday use. How can a man swing a lash accurately with all this flooshy fabric getting in the way?”
The figure vanished and then rematerialized, this time wearing only the leather under-suit. It looked very much like the uniform of the interrogators: flat, smooth, practical, studded with pockets and straps and loops for carrying a variety of equipment. The fancy green boots were now plain black leather. These were the clothes of a security agent or a soldier or an assassin. Without the billowing bustles Sam could clearly see the physique underneath, and it was a fine one. Despite his situation, he couldn’t help but stare. Solid, well-defined muscles; broad shoulders tapering to a V at the waist; arms and legs sturdy and strong without being overdeveloped. This guy’s body was so well-suited to Sam’s taste that it seemed to have been custom-designed to his precise specifica… right, of course. Now that he thought about it, that was probably exactly the case. If this was the avatar of the AI that controlled the simspace, Sam had spent the last four days feeding it information on what kind of men appealed to him… information that was now being put to use against him.
Continue reading Captain Jack and the Race to Redula – Chapter 08: All Too Real
By POW
To start at the very beginning of this story, click here
Unical date: 3752.563.24 (that same evening)
Sleep? As in, spend the night like this? Chained up on the floor? It didn’t seem possible. And yet, for the sake of the scene, he would try. He’d gotten himself into these additional restraints by his own actions; he would just have to suffer the consequences. Damn… shaking things up after an afternoon of monotony was one thing, but now that he’d done it, he wanted to undo and go back to the monotony again!
Minutes crawled by, one by one. The screams of the distant victim, either the same one or a new unfortunate bastard, continued to make themselves heard every so often through the door, grating on his psyche. The room was pitch black, not that there would have been anything to see anyway. Just concrete. Sam squirmed around, trying to find a comfortable position and once again wondering why he had chosen to do this to himself. He tried to eroticize the bondage and that worked for a bit. He felt his cock grow hard between his belly and the floor and (gently!) ground it into the concrete. It helped. He convinced himself that he would be able to endure. It would be an ordeal, but he would master it.
There were basically three positions available for his head: left cheek down, right cheek down, or chin down. Chin down was the position his body wanted to be in since that oriented his head in its usual forward-facing way. But the floor forced him to bend his neck painfully backward and so he couldn’t sustain that position for long. That left him alternating between cheeks, switching it up every few minutes each time the crick in his neck began to complain.
Continue reading Captain Jack and the Race to Redula – Chapter 05: Interrogation
Check out the amazing BDSM gear available at The Church of Sinvention. It’s handcrafted — with love — in Canada
