Joseph Andrew Collins

By LJB

Published on May 18, 2003

Gay

The following is a pure work of fiction and is the property of the author.

If you are looking to get off quick, read something else. This story is presented in serial form and you'll read a lot of background, before you get any mind-blowing sex scenes and then not as many as in the past.

If you are bothered by same sex relationships, read no farther. It's a story with some sex, not sex with some story.

I do not usually acknowledge e-mails, instead using my time to write. I do appreciate hearing from you to let me know if this story should continue. Hope that you continue enjoying the story. LJB

Joseph Andrew Collins Chapter 3

Securing the texts I need from the Book Store was a breeze. A wheeled cart was available and I proceeded through the store, loading each of the books on my list onto the cart. Only one book eluded detection and I had to search out a clerk to ask about it. Apparently, the publisher had placed the desired edition on back order and it was uncertain whether it would arrive in a week or a month. The clerk referred me to the Second Hand Book Office, which was run by the Student Council.

Following the directions I had been given to find the SHBO, I entered a large room with books in piles neatly stacked on the floor. Signs were hung identifying areas as to years of study and then by subject. The signs also noted these second hand book were priced according to their condition. Those who wished to save some money could search out a copy of the book they needed which might not be in as good condition as another copy of the same book. I found what I needed right off and was happy I'd come now, because the pile of available copies of this book was very small.

Leaving the Student Union Building, I went around by the athletic complex to search out the gymnastics coach with whom Brad had made arrangements for me to have some space for training. His name was Roger Banks and it didn't take long to locate him.

"Coach Banks, I'm Joe Collins." I announced as I approached him. He gave me a big smile, which made his handsome face light up. Roger Banks was a young man, perhaps 27 or 28 years old. I knew he had been a National College Champion in gymnastics and his body still showed the muscle development of a superior athlete. He stood about 5'9" and had the heavily defined upper torso and sleek lower form, which would be anticipated.

"Hey, Joe." he responded. "Really great to finally meet you." His grip was very firm when he shook my hand and he looked directly into a person's eyes when he spoke to them. "C'mon." he said, wrapping his arm over my shoulder and guiding me to his office. The office was nice and actually had a window to the outside; not usual in a gymnasium setting. He sat behind his desk and motioned me to a chair to the left of him, so the desk was not separating us.

"I came to see if I would be able to schedule some practice area." I stated. He had turned to face me, crossed his legs and interlocked his hands around one knee. I couldn't help seeing the ring he wore. It was a DPD insignia ring. He was a Brother.

"Brad tells me, you only need an area about the size of two mats." he related. "That's no problem. We can accommodate you anytime you want. The facility here is very large." As I had been through the complex many times, I had seen what he meant. The sports facility was immense.

"The Brothers have been kind enough to add some equipment to their weight room, so I can do my daily exercise routine there." I informed him. "All I need is an open space facility two or three times a week, for when my Coach comes to work with me. It would be an hour and a half, or two hours at a time."

"There's no problem, Joe. You tell me whenever your Coach is coming and I'll have a good location for you to use." he assured me. "I don't need more than an hours notice, it isn't even a problem if you just show up. I'm going to give you my card, with my office and cell phone numbers on it. You can call anytime, weekends included, if your Coach suddenly is available."

Thank you, Sir." I replied. "It's very generous of you to help me with this."

"Joe, this College is greatly honoured to have an athlete of your calibre on campus." he told me. "I feel privileged to be able to assist a Brother in any way I can."

"I'm not a Brother yet, Sir." I reminded him. He smiled.

"A lot of us feel you are." he answered. "You're what being a Brother is about." I didn't understand what he meant, but thought I would ask Brad. I thanked him again and we agreed we would see each other soon.

Kirk, Pete and Chuck did not show up back at the residence until almost nine o'clock that evening. They missed dinner, the cafeteria being closed before they left the Registration Hall. The Book Store was sold out of half the books they needed and only the worst of the poorer conditioned ones were left at the Second Hand Book Office. They were tired, hungry and discouraged.

"Oh Great Master." Pete intoned, as he bowed to me. "I will never again not heed your warnings of impending disaster. Please continue to share your valued knowledge and experience with this humble, lowly student as he wanders blindly through the halls of higher education."

"Never fear." I assured him. "I am ever willing to take pity on those who have learned their lesson."

"I'll never do that again." Kirk groaned as he spilled onto his bed. "An extra two hours of sleep, cost me about 8 hours of line-ups."

"Now tell me one thing." I asked. "You did address the Brothers who were registering you and helping with course selections as 'Sir', didn't you ?"

"Shit, Joe." Chuck said. "It was the best part of my day. I got this guy named 'Vince' helping me. When I called him 'Sir', he looked at me and said, 'I'm not an Instructor'. I said to him, "No, Sir, but you are a DPD Brother and I'm hoping to earn the privilege of becoming one too'. He stared at me for a few seconds and then he got a big smile and said, 'Tell Tick, it was a really smooth move'. He made sure all my courses were set and even arranged to change one class to a better Professor. Before I left, he wanted to be sure I would tell you what he said." I laughed.

"You hit the big time, Buddy." I laughed. "That was Vince Willows, this year's Pledge Master."

"Oh my God." Chuck wheezed. "He seemed to be all right about it."

"The Brother who helped me, just gave me a funny look." Pete reported. "He never said anything about it, but he's going to remember my name I'll bet."

"I struck out." Kirk moaned. "Wouldn't you know it ? I got Brad."

"That's not striking out." I informed him. "Brad will end up supporting you. You just need to make positive contacts with some other Brothers as well during Rush Week."

"How can you say Brad will support me ?" Kirk asked. "He doesn't like me to start with and he thinks I'm some maniac, who needs to be analysed."

"He does like you." I corrected him. "If he didn't like you, he'd ignore you, not offer to help find options that will allow him to include you. Mark my words. That's my bro, my main guy and I know what he thinks before he does most of the time. Let's order pizza."

{The View from Brad's side.}

What a bitch of a day. This is the second year for me on the Registration Crew and it was every bit this year the horror I remembered from last year. But it is worthwhile. We earn money for the Fraternity Charity from the College for working this day and we get to meet about 95% of the Freshman Class. That's an important first step in the process for the selection of Pledges. Now we'll observe during this first week and learn what we can about some individuals who strike us as potential candidates for our Fraternity.

During the Rush Week, the Frat will host three parties to which any Brother can give an invitation to anyone who has impressed him. At the parties, we'll all circulate, learn names, explore some attitudes and get an impression of personalities. The third party will be the Saturday Rush Week Prom, where there will be a number of people who get drunk, but it won't be any of the Brothers. We'll be busy watching and listening.

Sunday morning all available Brothers will meet and nominations will be taken for 25 individuals who will form this year's Invitation List to Pledge. If we have more than 25 names, an elimination process will be conducted. Only the first 20 will be invited to pledge and if any decline, the next name of the extra 5 will be invited. The Frat history indicates only one person has ever declined to pledge. There will in fact be over 500 potential candidates screened through Rush Week and every single one of them want to be one of the final 10.

Delta Phi Delta has a reputation of being a jock athlete Frat, but it truly has much more depth than that. Many of our Brothers are gifted athletes, but some are not. We choose those who have the capacity to encompass the embodiment of brotherhood. We all believe those passing through the selection and trials become better individuals by learning the essence of responsibility for others in Brotherhood.

When I passed through the trials, I had the benefit of the values my Dad, who is also a Brother, had instilled in me. It was a moderate transition to realize my fellow Pledge Class members and the Brothers were becoming more than acquaintances in the journey of life; they were my brothers in mind and spirit, just as I had always known Joe to be. Our commitment to one another extends beyond friendship. It involves a willingness to give and receive the love and caring of another, as you should your own brother. I believe this training and experience is what shaped my Dad to be the outstanding human being he has become.

When we arrived home at the Frat House there was pizza and fried chicken for those who were not too tired to eat. After snacking, we separate and do the things we each need to tend in order to be ready for the beginning classes tomorrow. I am in luck. My first class on Tuesdays is not until one o'clock. In our usual fashion, a group of us gravitate to cluster in the bedroom of our Chapter President, Chris Service. Steve, my former roommate and Vince, this year's Pledge Master are there. Andrew, our former Chapter President, Hogan, his roommate and two or three others are stretched sideways across the beds, or resting on the floor with backs against a wall.

"I interceded in an incident involving Joe mid-morning today." Vince reported. Everyone there knew Joe and stopped the individual conversations they had going and listened."

"I haven't seen him since breakfast." I said. "Is he okay ?" I asked. Vince chuckled.

"You know, I would have automatically asked how the other guy was." he pointed out. "He's fine as of when I left him. I really want to see him in here where the prestige of the Frat will keep some of these brainless idiots from thinking he's small; therefore he's a target. I have no doubt he could readily put them all down, but there's no reason he should be subjected to that."

"Personal experience, Bro ?" Andrew queried, raising a knowing eyebrow.

"Yeah." Vince affirmed. "Brothers, I feel I should offer my resignation as Pledge Master. I find I have growing personal feelings for Joe and I have reason to believe they may be reciprocated."

"I don't believe that is sufficient reason for you to be relieved of your office." Steve commented. "Do you intend to treat Joe unfairly either for or against."

"No. Of course not." he maintained emphatically. "It's what I might do unintentionally that concerns me. And another thing is, I would really like to be his Big Brother. I can't very well do that as Pledge Master. I'm sorry Brad, I haven't even discussed this with you."

"You couldn't be his Big Brother anyway, Vince." Chris informed him. "I'm afraid you haven't been here long enough yet to be up to speed on everything, but we have plans for Joe. They necessitate a need for a specific Big Brother."

"Oh, I didn't know." Vince replied. "What if he doesn't make it ?"

"You've met Joe." I responded to Vince. "Is there any situation you can imagine that he wouldn't make it ?" We both chuckled and Vince shook his head.

"By the by, are any of you aware he has a campaign underway to bring some of his friends with him ?" Vince inquired. "It's a clever device he's using."

"Is he behind the 'Yes, Sir' kid ?" Hogan asked. He proceeded to tell us about a Freshman who addressed him as 'Sir' during the entire registration process.

"What was his name ?" I asked him.

"Pete Greege." Hogan answered.

"I guess it worked, didn't it ?" Vince pointed out. "And over the next couple days after you've told the story to different groups of Brothers, his name will be familiar to all of us."

"How many of them are there ?" Steve wanted to know. I was about to tell them when Chris spoke up.

"If it's the guys he was having supper with last night who I met, there are three more." he said. I nodded my agreement. "He's a good judge of character. Maybe we should have a closer look at them."

"I have a problem with Kirk, his roommate." I admitted. "Joe seems committed to helping get him in proper shape. Can I ask that no one review him, until the end of Rush Week ? It will give Joe a fair chance to see if he's right about the guy."

"I see no problem with that." Vince concurred. "The only thing is, when we look at him, it will be all of us. Say at the Saturday night party. Okay ?" Everyone present asserted his agreement.

Later that night, just after I had climbed into bed and turned out my light, there was a knock on my door. I didn't answer, but I heard the latch click and the door open slightly.

"Brad, it's me, Vince." he called out softly. "If you're awake I'd like to talk to you. If you're asleep I won't bother you and if you don't want me bothering you, just give me a 'fuck off'. I won't take it personally." The stupid ass made me laugh.

"C'mon in, Vince." I told him. He entered and I turned on the light next to my bed. "What can I do for you ?" I motioned for him to sit on the spare bed as I spoke.

"I came to apologize. I should have spoken to you about Joe, before I said anything to the others." he announced. "I'm really sorry."

"Well, don't be." I responded. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"You do understand, I'm going to pursue your brother, don't you ?" he questioned.

"What do you want him for, Vince ?" I asked. "I've heard no commentary or rumours about you having a notched bedpost, keeping score of your conquests. Is that what he is to be ? One more colt in your stable."

"You judge me hard, Brad." he commented. Now I was embarrassed. "I understand you don't know me well, but I am your Brother and I believe in the same values as you."

"Now it's my turn to apologize." I admitted. "I regret my hasty reaction, calling your character into question. Sometimes I can be a little too protective when Joe is involved."

"I can understand why. Poor, little, defenceless kid." he teased. "You should have seen him ready to take on that small mountain he was arguing with this morning. I was concerned for the mountain. Maybe my priorities will have to be changed around."

"No, you're likely right to be concerned about the other guy." I conceded. "I just have a habit of looking out for Joe."

"It's a habit I need to consider." he said. I knew from his expression and tone he was realizing that beyond the martial arts expert, there was a whole complete person he needed to consider. "I have to look at Joe as the person he really is, not the image I and others have of him."

"You'll find a warm, loving, mature young man who deserves someone special to be with him." I stated. "If you are that person, then I will bless and praise you. If you are not, I don't want Joe destroyed in the process of finding out."

"I give you my pledge, as my Brother." he told me solemnly, "I will never hurt Joe intentionally. I will do everything I can to bring joy and good things to his life and I will honour and love him as the very special person I sense him to be."

"How could I possibly not want someone to feel like that about my brother ?" I responded. "You treat Joe with love and respect and I will be your Brother and friend."

"Thanks, Brad." Vince said.

""You're welcome, Bro." I answered. "And by the way, if you wrestle with him and win, remember it's because he lets you. I've had to accept that for about six years now."

{Back to the dorm}

That first week of school was exciting and nerve racking, informative and boring, fun and thrilling. The realization hit me about Thursday that I was actually on my own for the first time in my life. It didn't count that my brother was only a quarter mile away, or my Parents insisted I call them every night that first week to tell them how each day went. I was making my own decisions about what I would do, when I would do it and how I would go about it. Of course I had the responsibilities of classes and maintaining my training schedule, but they were my things to do.

On Tuesday night, Ken Williams, my martial arts Coach, called and asked if he could come the next day. We arranged to meet at 4:00 p.m. at the entrance to the Sports Complex. I called Coach Banks' office to arrange for facilities. I dialled his office phone and after two rings heard the click over as the call was forwarded to another location.

"DPD House." a deep male voice answered. I was surprised the call had gone to the Frat House. I identified myself, then asked if Coach Banks were available. "Just a minute, please." Then in the background I heard, "Roger, Joe Collins is calling you." A moment later he greeted me.

"Hey, Joe. How are things going ?" We talked cordially for a couple minutes, then I told him about my plan for tomorrow. "No problem, Joe. I'll meet you and Mr. Williams at the entrance at four o'clock. By the way, a few people have asked me about attending and watching you practice. Is that a problem ?"

"My practices are not very interesting, Coach." I informed him. "It is often repetitious, practicing a single move, or position. I can ask Coach Williams to do some Tai Chi, that might interest someone."

"Just do whatever you normally do, Joe." he said. "Don't worry about anyone who may come in. No one expects anything special, they just want to see you in your element." I agreed he could bring whomever he wanted. "Thanks, Joe. Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow."

The next day, I was in the entryway to the Sports Complex fifteen minutes early to make sure Coach Williams didn't get lost. He was right on time and I realized I was especially happy to see him. Ken Williams has been my Coach for the past three years. He is a former Olympic and World Champion and since he retired has run a prestigious Dojo, which has produced many competitive Champions. Studying with him has provided me with the skills, focus and determination to succeed in my sport. He has been more than my Coach; he's also been my very good friend.

Ken Williams is 45 years old. He is 6'0" and slightly beyond my weight class at 255 pounds. He is amazingly fast for his size and it has always served as an edge for him in competition. Light blond hair that looks like it was trimmed with a bowl over his head, tops a handsome face with striking light blue eyes. His muscular chest is also covered with light blond fur. He has maintained the rugged six-pack abdominal muscles, which those half his age fight with their bodies to develop. The light blond fur continues on his muscled thighs and calves. Big feet, likely about a size 13 hold up this rugged example of male physique.

Having shared a locker room and shower with Ken for several years, I know he owns a thick, 4" penis, which I have noted enlarges to at least 7 ½" on occasions. Light blond fur dusts his firm, melon-like butt. Ken is totally straight, married and has 2 really nice kids, but his image has often been an effective jerk off fantasy for me over the years.

As we were greeting each other, Coach Banks came up to us. After introductions were complete, he led us through a corridor to a small gymnasium, which was off from the main activity areas.

"This will be a regular location for you to use." Coach Banks stated. "There will not be any problem booking you in here. I will get a set of keys for you Joe, so you can practice here whenever you want." I thanked him for his consideration, but he brushed it off as being the College's privilege. Ken and I placed our gym bags in a corner and each of us stripped to our under shorts and changed into our uniforms. We both hold different degrees, so our uniforms are identical except for the knots in our black belts.

The gym had four mats in the middle of it, laid in a square pattern, edge to edge. We moved onto the mats and started our stretching routines to prepare our bodies for the exercise to follow. While we were stretching, Coach Banks went over and opened the door where we had entered and people started to silently come in one at a time. I had asked Ken about the request for observers and he had no problem with them being there. The people who came in circled around the mats and then sat cross-legged on the floor. By the time Coach Banks closed the door, there were 50 or more people sitting around us. The Coach joined them on the floor.

After my stretches were completed, I stood and looked at those seated around the mat. I recognized about 10 Brothers from DPD. There were a few men I would estimate over forty and the rest were a mix of students, including 5 women. The women and about half of the others were dressed in their Gi, the traditional white uniform for martial arts. Among those dressed in Gi, there were a variety of White, Yellow, Orange, Green, Blue, Purple, and Brown Belts. There were also two Black Belts worn by DPD Brothers, who I had known were students in martial arts.

Ken indicated he was ready and we started out with a progression of Tai Chi movements to develop inner strength and to achieve balance of the Yin and Yang. As we flowed through the routine, I noted that the observers had stood and spreading out, were following along with us. Each person attempted the positions and movements with their personal level of skill and experience. Some of it was pretty bad, but everyone was doing their best. As we finished the cycle, Ken and I faced each other and bowed.

He then attacked with that lightening speed. This was not an unusual move for him to make and often highlighted a certain move which we would spend time on developing. Ken had his extra quickness and size. I had sharper reflexes because of my youth and my size. Even though Ken is several weight classes above me, when there are leverage moves to be made, my lesser stature can be a benefit. I countered his attack and scored a strike. Instead of renewing his attack, he faced me and bowed again. He then glanced past my shoulder, indicating I should look over at something.

When I turned, one of the DPD Brothers, named Ray stood on the mat and bowed to me. He bowed indicating his readiness to challenge me and I returned the bow. This man was not too much bigger than me. Maybe 7" and 30 pounds. He stepped in toward me and we grappled briefly, each clutching the Gi of the other. I was patient and soon he made an error and shifted his weight in the wrong direction, setting him slightly off balance. I took the opening and flipped him, being careful to keep hold of his lapels, so he did not land too forcefully. It was obvious he had been trained how to fall and no damage was done.

I was then challenged by Sandy, the other DPD Brother with the same results. I noted that Ken was watching this all very carefully and he encouraged each of the Brothers to try me again. And again. And again. After half an hour, they had been unable to subdue me, or score any striking points.

"Time for a break." Ken announced. "You boys must be worn out." He addressed Ray and Sandy, apparently not concerned about the energy I had expended fending both of them off. "Joe, these young men have something to say to you." I turned and Ray stepped forward. The rest of the audience all stood up.

"Sensi." he addressed me as 'Teacher', a title of honour. "Those assembled here all desire to continuing their training in the arts. We would ask you to consider making this your Dojo and accepting us as your students."

"I don't know what to say." I responded, looking over to Ken. He was standing with Coach Banks. "You two set this up ?" I knew they had.

"I think this is the next link in your training, Joe." Ken responded. "In teaching and analyzing the errors in student's techniques, you will improve your own knowledge of form and flow."

"You have a lot of interested people here." Coach Banks said. "I understand our Brothers will be willing to teach." He indicated Ray and Sandy and they both nodded. "The knowledge and skills you would bring to this Dojo would make all of us honoured to be allowed to study with you."

"Can we wait until we get through Pledging and Trials ?" I asked. "Then if my courses are not too demanding, I would be happy to share any skills I can with all of you." The room burst out in applause, which first startled me and then made me feel embarrassed.

The rest of the week slid past without anything of too much interest. Kirk and I got into a routine with our class work. True to his word, Brad arranged for Kirk to see a Psychologist and that apparently went pretty well. He was a tough guy and didn't give Kirk an inch. Kirk said, he felt much better about himself after seeing this guy and even seemed pleased about going back next week.

The Rush Week activities that DPD was sponsoring had been scheduled. There was to be a Cookout at the Frat House on Sunday afternoon, extending into the evening. This one was stag, no co-eds. Monday was Labour Day, so no classes. The Brothers had something scheduled for themselves, which did not include outsiders. Thursday, there was to be a Marathon Basketball Tournament, held at the Sports Complex. This had to be signed up for, so teams could be organized. This was a co-ed activity in that dates willing to be Cheer Leaders were encouraged. Then Saturday night was the traditional, formal Rush Week Ball at the Frat House. Of course, attendance at any these events required an invitation from a DPD Brother.

Saturday morning, I dressed in shorts and a Tee and walked over to the Frat House to see if Brad wanted to do something. I would not get to see him much during Rush and then as a Pledge; I would not be socializing with him, or any of the other Brothers. As I rounded the bend in the lane, whom did I spot out washing a bright red Jag convertible, but Mr. Vince Willows. When I saw him, my nipples tingled. Retribution time I thought.

Vince was wearing a pair of cut-off jeans and nothing else. His bared torso caused me to gasp when he turned toward where I stood. The gymnast's body of massive shoulders and arms was perfection on him. His chest had a tuft of reddish brown hair between his pecs and I could see similar tufts under his arms as he raised the pail and washrag he was using. His jeans rode low on his narrow hips and the top of his similarly coloured pubic bush was noticeable. Wet fabric outlined the bulge of some pretty impressive equipment and the cheeks of his solid-looking butt peeked out from under the short-cut hem of his jeans every time he bent forward.

I thought this was a bit of advertising and wondered, if he was serious about the two of us getting together, what he was trolling for in the mean time. I slowly moved closer to him, being as quiet as possible and hoping he wouldn't turn and see me. My luck held. I managed to walk the last 8 feet up behind him while he remained unaware of my presence. When he stood after scrubbing a wheel well, I wrapped my arms around his waist and held him tightly, making certain my solid crotch was pushed up tight against those hard buns. After nuzzling his neck gently and sliding my tongue up his neck to his ear lobe, which I nibbled, I wiggled the tip of my tongue in his ear channel. Meanwhile, one hand gently circled his taut stomach and the other hand circled slowly over his wet package.

"Is that you, Rick ?" he asked, standing still and allowing me to caress him. "No Rick's dick feels bigger than that up against me. It must be Tim. No Tim's a basketballer and a lot taller. I don't know who this might be." I slide my hand up and pinching his nipple firmly, I twisted it carefully. He pushed his butt tightly into me. "Ah yes, I do remember something about a little guy who has a nipple thing."

"Me have a nipple thing ?" I roared. "It wasn't me who started this. If it had been me, I would have gone right to the root of the problem." I moved my circling hand from his package to the waistband of his low jeans and then down into his wet pants, grasping his already stiff member and squeezing it."

"Hey fella!" he called out laughing. "He who plays with the equipment, should be prepared to get fucked by the equipment." I let go quickly and pulled my hand out of his shorts. He grabbed my wrist with one hand and spun around, so he was pressed tight against me, facing me. Before I could say anything, he kissed me. I've been kissed a few times before, but it was never anything like this. His tongue went after my tongue and all my senses could feel was the stroking and probing. The kiss might have lasted forever as I floated on a cloud, until I was suddenly ripped back to reality.

When Vince had turned, he still held the water hose in his hand and he had placed that hose between us as he wrapped his arms around me. The hose was bubbling a steady overflow and I suddenly realized cold water was running down my legs, into my shoes and out onto the ground.

"Son of a bitch." I hollered, pushing myself away from him. I was completely soaked as was he, but he had already been soaked when I arrived. He looked at me and started laughing. First, I felt a little annoyed, but then when I thought about it I started to laugh as well.

"C'mon." he instructed me. "We better find something you can wear. Those white shorts are just like glass when they get wet. I might be enjoying the view, but I don't think I want everyone else doing the same." I looked down and he was right, I practically looked naked. We went into the Frat House the back way and up the back stairs to his bedroom. He ushered me into his room and closed the door behind us. I stopped in the middle of the floor and he walked over to me, put his arms back around me and kissed me again. My head spun and I felt an electrical charge run through my body.

"Let's get you out of these wet things." he stated, as he grasped the bottom of my T-shirt and lifted it up my body and over my head. His hands returned to my waist and my shorts quickly slid down my legs to the floor. Vince squatted in front of me, taking my underwear down with him and removing my wet shoes from my feet and wet clothing from around my legs. As he stood back up, he lightly dragged his fingers up my legs and thighs, sending a chill throughout my body. I stood totally naked and my dick pointed straight to the ceiling, as hard as it had ever been.

Next: Chapter 4


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