|
Some examples of
whats new to expect inside our
members area:
asix, nike, wrestling
shoes, college, amateur, ringen, gear fetish, fetish, gearplay, gear
play, leather, straps, harness, torture, comic, hero, superhero,
lycra, spandex, motorcycle, biker, cyclist, biker shorts, running
shorts, cowboy hat, cowboy, football, helmet, jet fighter, pilot,
airline, pads, baseball, foot ball, sports, military, submissive,
submission, NHB, brokeback mountain, jeans, jerking off, cigars,
pipes, smoking, cigs, yard work, lumberjack, lumber jack, tarzan,
gym, mobster, ocean, key west, muscle sex, duke miller, Glen
Matthews, Jackson Phillips, Timberfell, resort, nudist resort, bear
resort, rivers edge, riversedge, buster, baloons, ballons, dungeon,
couples, jail, jailed, hustlers, massage, masseur, gagged, Chris
Steele, Tony Lazarri, amateurs, drunk, white trash, drunken,
carolina jim, trucking, voyeur, chains, whipped, big dick, big cock,
Prince Albert, toilet, three way, orgy, poolside, swimmer, House of
Justice, Cole Tucker, bathroom, stall, Paul Carrigan, Hank
Hightower, public sex, Dakota Phillips, fantasy fest, bench press,
hanover beach, nude beach, nude camp, nude resort, Bo Thomas, Mike
Radcliffe, locker room, locker-room, Rick Brock, Mike Radcliffe,
Sonny Markham, Jack Stratus, Danny Lee, TKelly, Duke Miller, Grant
Wallace, Vince Rockland, Ricky Porter, Chance Caldwell, Jack
Stewart, Lifeguard Competition, Chris LaFleur, Military Stud, Jim
King, euro sex, euro muscle, twink, blue eyed, Jack Lawrence, Ross
Taylor, camping, camp fire, Jackson Phillips, Mark Kroner, Blade
Thompson, Rick Presley, Mike Nichols, Tony Ganz, Davon Hunt, Bud
Jacob, nude soldiers, errection, Dakota Phillips, Steven Richards,
Edwin Frank, Mario Bacci, Nick Romano, dildo fucking, Anthony Cox,
greasy mechanic, Austin Masters, fireman calendar, Vintage Muscle,
Hank Hightower, Blond Surfer, Jarred Clark, Dean Phoenix, Peter
Wilder, Talvin DeMachio, Frank Taylor, Scott Anderson, latin, latino,
mexican, Maxx Grand, buff, stocky, Chad Wolf, Brawley Colt, wet
stud, Bill Hughes, British Bulldog, Guy Will, Hank Trout, vangar.com,
Vangar, Warehouse Wrestling, GlobalFight.com, GlobalFight,
musclefan.net, usafur, british, uk, MuslWrestl, Kyle Bradford,
Rassling Dad, NightHawkPro, Bear Workout, Arm Wrestle
ITEMS FOR SALE
|
Rubber Tickler Whip Large 22 Inch
|
|
Hard or soft, pleasure or pain. Fulfill you and your lovers
needs with these rubber whips. You can choose what color is
most appealing to you. Whether you're in the mood for
tickling, or out right spanking, this is the perfect tool!
$ 23.50
(+info)
|
| |
|
Rachel's Pleasure Play Pack
|
|
With the creative couple in mind, Rachel offers her Play
Pak. This sizzling 6 piece assortment includes Cumfy Cuffs
(2), Cumfy Cuffs Extensions (2), and Thigh Cuffs (2).
Interchangeable attachments create one of the most versatile
collections of options.
$ 35.95
(+info)
|
| |
|
Satin Blindfold
|
|
Gently place this blindfold around your lover's eyes and
begin your ultimate fantasy of passionate lovemaking.
Pleasantly soft and comfortable for you total enjoyment.
Double straps for secure placement.
$ 3.25
(+info)
|
| |
|
Metal Weight 2 oz.
|
|
For use with the Parachute Ball Stretcher! This black
enameled metal weight will give you the extra pleasure you
need, when added to the ball stretcher. How much weight can
your balls handle?
$ 5.95
(+info)
|
| |
|
Patent Leather Ankle Cuffs
|
|
Adjustable cuffs that are lined with fur, even though you
want your lover to be restrained, you don't want to hurt
them. The fur gives them a comfortable feel why you take
advantage of them!
$ 15.95
(+info)
|
| |
|
B9 Leather Collar - Bad Kitty
|
|
Spartacus collars are handmade by skilled USA craftsmen
using quality oil tan leather. It's narrow band with
adjustable snaps. Snap setting for 13" - 16". Nothing
arouses the senses like leather.
$ 16.99
(+info)
|
| |
|
Ball Gag Paint Free
|
|
Our ball gag is made of top quality rubber with a genuine
leather strap and an easy release cinch. It is also
Paint-Free for your safety.
$ 11.50
(+info)
|
| |
|
Leather Collar - Fuck Me
|
|
Spartacus collars are handmade by skilled USA craftsmen
using quality oil tan leather. It's narrow band with
adjustable snaps. Snap setting for 13" - 16". Nothing
arouses the senses like leather.
$ 14.99
(+info)
|
| |
|
Red Patent Leather Cuffs
|
|
Embrace the adventurer within and unleash your ultimate
fantasies with our new line of designer restraint cuffs.
With the removable clips, padded inner lining and Velcro®
closure to ensure perfect fit, you are sure to enjoy every
second of your erotic artistry.
$ 24.99
(+info)
|
| |
|
Doggin Bat
|
|
This slim but powerful Doggin Bat is great for dominating
your lover. Since BDSM has become more popular so have the
toys. Measuring at 24 inches with a strong handle and sturdy
structure, this is the next addition to add to your
collection. Whether you are into BDSM or not, you are sure
to get a rise out of you or your partner once you bring this
Doggin Bat out. Doggin Bats are serious discipline objects
and are a sure way to make sure your lover knows who the
master is!
$ 29.99
(+info)
|
| |
|
Leather Beginner's Bondage Kit
|
|
Begin your bondage fantasies today! Includes leather wrist
cuffs, ankle cuffs, a blindfold, a whip, five free samples
of body heat warming massage lotion! Your life will never be
the same!
$ 49.99
(+info)
|
| |
|
Medium Nipple Clamps
|
|
Bring out the wild side in your lovemaking. Tease your
nipples with these sensual tit clamps. Tension is
adjustable. Medium.
$ 14.99
(+info)
|
| |
|
Tera Patrick's Passion Play 50+ Inch Faux Fur Tether
Restraints
|
|
Stylized, comfortable, faux fur leopard-print restraints
with adjustable Velcro closures. Designed for an tested by
Tera Patrick this kit is perfect for the bedroom! Includes
four tethers.
$ 24.99
(+info)
|
| |
|
Penis Gag
|
|
Teach your sex slave a lesson...to love cock sucking with
this fully adjustable leather gag, with a detailed cock-head
to fill the mouth of any slave. Stylish and stern, this gag
is the best to get the job done!
$ 40.95
(+info) |
STORY
|
BitingBeaver’s Story.
Originally appeared at www.bitingbeaver.blogspot.com
Used with the author’s permission.
Several years into my second marriage, my husband,
like so many others, came to me with a problem. Our sex
life was getting 'boring', why don't we try to 'spice it
up'? I was a bit puzzled since, to me, the sex was fine
and dandy, but I was open-minded and had a "Sure, I'll
try anything once" outlook. So, with that in mind, my X
took a trip to the local sex store and came home with a
pair of fuzzy cuffs.
At first, I kind of enjoyed it. The reasons for this,
I have since come to understand, were a direct result of
my earlier abuses. I fell into a submissive role easily
and readily. In some way, I was trying to act out my
earlier rapes in a 'safe' environment and, just for the
record, that is not healthy either. However, at the
time, this seemed like a ‘safe’ way to regain control of
earlier abuses in a ‘controlled’ environment.
Soon, however, it escalated. It began with fuzzy
cuffs with cute little ‘safety releases’ which worked
well to soothe me into believing I actually had control.
Eventually, it moved to Velcro stuff which was more
difficult to actually remove if I wanted to. All the
while he was bringing me home BDSM magazines and videos
with women as submissives. The material became more and
more hardcore and he wanted to play out every picture in
the magazines and videos with/on me.
Honestly, I’m not sure when I began feeling unsafe,
I’m not sure at what point the ‘therapeutic’ reenactment
of my previous rapes became not-so-therapeutic and, more
than that, damaging, but it did happen. The nightmares
came back, haunting me in my sleeping hours. My
self-esteem plummeted, and I began internalizing the
things that my husband told me while having sex. I began
to believe I was a whore, a slut and that I liked to be
hurt.
The dominance play gradually escalated as each new
‘thing’ quickly got ‘old’, and was rejected in favor of
something more extreme, more painful and more degrading.
I have since heard of this process of desensitization
and now I understand what was happening; what was once
titillating and exciting for him, quickly became an old
hat and something new came in to take its place. The new
stuff was always a bit more extreme than the old stuff.
In the time that I lived with BDSM, I watched as the
abuse began to escalate. And I was confused, I was
frustrated. I didn’t know whether I liked it or not. I
knew I hated the clamps and the chains and the whips but
I didn’t hate the way he seemed to value me when it was
happening.
I felt like a sort of traitor. He would talk to me,
tell me how much he loved me, as he was tying me up,
spread eagle, to our marriage bed. He would kiss me
gently, more gently than he ever kissed me before we
fell into this strange ‘fantasy’ of BDSM. Then he would
hit me, or whip me, or stick strange things inside of me
and I was supposed to like it. I knew, somewhere inside
of me, that I was supposed to like it. The confusion set
in and my mind became divided. This was my husband, the
man I had sworn to be with, the man who pledged his love
to me. Surely, he didn’t WANT to hurt me, and, even if
he did, it was my husband, the man I loved. The man who
loved me. I was supposed to be enjoying his attentions.
Love, sex, rape and pain became synonymous with one
another. Sex didn’t exist without pain. Love didn’t
exist without being called a slut, a whore, or a dirty
nasty little slut whore. My concept of love began to
twist into something so alien that I fight, right now,
as I’m writing this, for the words to describe it. Rape
didn’t exist, it was simply sex. Sex didn’t exist, it
was always rape. Love couldn’t exist without degradation
and the phrase “Love Hurts” began to take on a whole new
meaning for me.
I became a divided woman. When he came to me in the
morning and put the nipple clamps on me I knew that I
was not free. What began with fuzzy cuffs and playful
‘spanking’ ultimately led me to a place where the man I
loved tried to seal my vagina with hot wax. And you know
what? It was all the same. By that time, pain, love, sex
and rape, abuse, and degradation were all the same.
Respect was nonexistent and the saddest part of all, the
part that makes my heart hurt even now as the memories
race through my head and my hands shake from the fear
welling within me, is that I didn’t know the difference.
His muttered “I love you” was the same as his “You
like that you little whore, don’t you?” His fingertips
trailing down my side was the same as the numbing pain
when he fisted me after hitting my genitals with a whip.
The previous abuses I had endured, my rape when I was
a child, became the same as the ‘sex’ we were engaging
in. The line disappeared, and, for a time, I didn’t
think that there was such a thing as rape, so hazy had
the line in my head become. Of course, a part of me
rallied against this, and it was that part that insisted
on showing me nightmares at night. That part of me
wailed at the division, it insisted on reminiding me, in
mind numbing horror that I had been raped. At night my
head showed me everything for what it was. Flashbacks,
nightmares, insomnia, anxiety attacks, all of these
things haunted me daily.
I think that the first time I felt ‘real’ terror was
when I looked down at him with a needle in his hand,
poking into the skin of my nipple, drawing blood,
threatening to pierce it. I screamed in terror and
unadulterated horror as the cross stitch needle, the
very needle that I had used to make the wall hanging in
my living room, disappeared into my flesh. When I
screamed he stopped, put his hand up, and clamped it
over my mouth. I felt fear. I felt it wash over me and
all the pretenses fell away. I knew I wasn’t in control.
I knew that his words had been lies. His reassuring
words, whispered in a husky voice that I was ‘Safe’ that
“No matter what happens know that I won’t hurt you, I
love you” I knew it was lies. I saw behind the veneer
and I was terrified at what I saw.
From there on the rift inside of me widened. My
‘Mouse’ (the part of me who was the quiet, meek,
finishing school girl) told me that I was being silly.
She soothed me with her words, telling me that I was
simply being unfair to him to suddenly desire to deny
him what he so obviously wanted from me. She told me
that I had the ability to make him happy and here I was
denying him. She reminded me how hard he worked to
provide for us and how I was a traitor if I believed
that he could or would, actually hurt me badly. Every
time he raised the bar she excused it and I believed
her, or I tried to anyway.
On the other side of the divide was the Warrior. She
screamed at me to kill him, to hurt him, she screamed at
me that he was raping me. The Mouse countered by telling
me that I enjoyed it, how could it be rape if I enjoyed
it? And, even if I didn’t enjoy it, I was his wife and
that’s what women do they sacrifice and THAT is the
greatest power of all. The two sides began warring for
control, the Warrior telling me that pain and sex and
love and rape are NOT the same, they are different, they
are opposite poles on different ends of the galaxy. The
Mouse told me what is pleasure without pain? What is
love without anxiety? And mostly, she argued that I was
being so uptight.
Meanwhile the abuse continued and escalated.
At the high point of my abuse, cloaked as BDSM, he
would insert things into my rectum and force me to go to
the store. He tried, on several occasions, to ‘seal’ my
vaginal lips closed with wax, or clamps. Rape became not
only inevitable but indistinguishable from sex. He held
me down amid my screaming protests and raped me, and it
was the same as the sex. There was no difference. I took
it all as different shades of grey in our ‘enlightened’
sex life.
I began to doubt that my rape at 10 had even
occurred, as in, was it even rape? How could it have
been, when it was the same as what was happening in my
bedroom all the time? How could it be rape? Surely, I
wouldn’t be living with a rapist? Surely, the man who
told me he loved me couldn’t actually be a rapist? My
mind refused to latch onto that concept, the Mouse would
have none of it and the Warrior screamed from beyond the
chasm in my mind.
Abuse and pain were the norm of my life for a period
of about 5 years.
Finally, I spoke to him. Finally, I told him that I
was tired of BDSM. I told him I longed for the days when
he had actually made love to me. When he was tender
without ropes, without chains, without pain and spit and
whips. I cried. I asked him, in my desperation that day,
to “Please, just make love to me. Please make love to me
now, prove to me that you still can.” I told him I
needed, craved, desired a gentle touch without pain.
He tried. Until he entered me, then his hand crept to
my neck and there it was, the same old dominance. He
squeezed my neck and I was gasping for air as my head
got light. I cried as he ‘made love’ to me and the tears
flowed freely down my face before dropping onto his
hand. He kissed the tears away as I cried and it was
then that I realized that this was not love. He was
incapable of love and I wondered and I heard my warrior
crying out to me, I heard her words from across the
divide and my heart sank and my tears dried as he
finished the act.
From then on I resisted him, I resisted the BDSM. I
tried to tell myself I had won, I tried to tell myself
that he no longer took out the whips and the chains and
leather lay unused in a duffle bag under the bed. But I
hadn’t won; every time we had sex, he had a hand on my
throat, he had a hand pinning my wrists.
|
provided by http://www.oneangrygirl.net/BitingBeaver.htm |