Buck Richards is once again at the epicenter of some serious BDSM action for KinkMen. This time it’s an edging session with Vander Pulaski & Van Darkholme, with Van’s presence automatically guaranteeing an authentic and brutal BDSM encounter in which Buck will have to endure incredible stimulation of his cock and ass.
Stripped, bound, and gagged, Buck’s cock becomes Vander’s obsession—sucked raw while Van’s handjob and forced oral push him to the brink. Denied climax, Buck writhes in tight rope bondage until Vander shoves him into a suffocating Sleep Sack, his cock trapped in a Penis Pump.
When the hood tears off, Vander’s cock replaces it, face-fucking Buck as the pump torments him anew. Van revives the agony—clamping shocks to Buck’s thighs while Vander mouths his aching shaft. A metal plug invades Buck’s ass as voltage spikes, leaving him gasping. Finally, Vander impales himself on Buck’s rock-hard cock, riding it violently until he erupts. But for Buck? Release remains a cruel mystery—his torment lingers, his cock still locked, his screams muffled by the gag. A masterpiece of domination.
The scene unfolds like a sadistic ballet, each act a calculated escalation of Buck’s desperation. Van Darkholme, the silent architect of agony, tightens the ropes until Buck’s muscles scream, his body contorted into a living pretzel of submission. Vander Pulaski, the relentless tease, oscillates between lavish blowjob sessions and abrupt withdrawals, leaving Buck’s cock throbbing with unspent need. The Sleep Sack, a suffocating cocoon, amplifies sensory deprivation—Buck’s world narrows to the muffled sounds of Vander’s slurping and the metallic hiss of the Penis Pump.
Electric shocks crackle like lightning, jolting Buck’s thighs into involuntary spasms. His body betrays him, arching into the pain as Vander’s lips stretch around his cock, his gag reflex tested with every brutal thrust. Van’s laughter echoes, low and menacing, as he cranks the voltage higher, watching Buck’s face contort beneath the hood.
When Vander can’t hold back any longer, he straddles Buck’s rigid cock, his ass clenching around the invasion like a vice. Vander rides him like a stallion, his moans of ecstasy a cruel counterpoint to Buck’s whimper of frustration. The room erupts in a symphony of wet slaps and breathless cries as Vander’s orgasm detonates—a thick, geysering cumshot splattering Buck’s chest.
Yet Buck’s torture isn’t over. Vander’s hands clamp around his cock, squeezing just enough to stave off release. The Penis Pump hums, dragging him to the edge once more, only to yank him back. His body is a live wire, every nerve screaming for relief, his mind reduced to a singular, unfulfilled command: Cum. Cum. Cum.
The ropes lower him to the floor, his limbs trembling. Vander leans in, his breath hot against Buck’s ear. “Not yet, sissy,” he whispers. The gag returns. The Sleep Sack tightens. And Buck’s cock—still rock-hard, still aching—awaits another cycle of exquisite, unending agony.
Van Darkholme and Vander Pulaski strip Buck down to his rawest self, proving that true power lies not in the cock, but in the hands that wield it. For viewers, it’s a masterclass in domination, a testament to the art of denial, and a reminder: some men aren’t made to cum. They’re made to suffer.