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Check out these shots from TitanMen’s Full Fetish:

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Wilfried Knight (of blessed memory), in a rubber harness apron and long rubber gloves, ties Aymeric Deville to a St. Andrew’s Cross. Aymeric blasts his first thick load all over his wet rubber singlet, pushing Wilfried over the edge, too. Wilfried feeds Aymeric’s hungry hole an enormous ridged dildo, working it inch by inch inside.

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Handsome David Anthony, ripped and stern in a rubber harness and chaps, teases the thick-muscled, hairy-chested Shay Michaels, down on his knees in a rubber jock and gas mask. David straps Shay into the sling, tying his cuffed arms up to the chains. “You ready to get fucked again?” David says. Shay begs for it as David shoves a couple of fingers up his slick hole, before ramming his tool up Shay’s willing ass, rocking him back and forth in the sling.

 

To see the video, visit Titan Men and search for Full Fetish

Story

The Inescapable Canvas – Part 02

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By THHoudini and yohan555

Chapter 4 – Bound Desires

Nat woke up in the dark, not knowing where he was. He could not see anything. Then he remembered, Yohan had tricked him, tricked him in a straitjacket that was more than a normal asylum restraint. A straitjacket that was somehow magical and that had transformed and fused with his body. The darkness he lay in wasn’t just a void—it was a living, breathing beast, a predator that didn’t merely surround Nat but sank its claws into him, seeping through his skin, threading into his veins like a venom that burned and begged for more. It wasn’t silence—it was a symphony of torment: the creak of leather stretching taut over his thrashing body, the thud of his pulse roaring in his ears, the faint, slick whisper of spandex shifting beneath the straitjacket’s iron grip. That jacket—fuck, it really wasn’t a jacket anymore, he had not dreamed that. When the blinding white light had faded, it had shed its innocently looking soft clothing shell, transforming into a seamless, glossy shroud of black leather that fused to him from his broad shoulders down to the thick curve of his hips. No buckles, no seams, no escape—just a second skin that clung tighter with every breath, every twitch, every curse he spat into the void. It was still reacting to his movement, still adjusting to him as he moved.

Continue reading The Inescapable Canvas – Part 02 →