Maxwells Magic Camera

By moc.loa@potgnipor

Published on Oct 30, 2023

Gay

I UPDATE

So, just to bring everyone "up to speed" as it were, our original photographers, and then the guys who took the camera are now out of the picture. In Installment 5, we started looking at what happened to (ii) chad, the furry ginger professor, (iii) ramon, the young swimmer, and (iv)steve, the one time cop now security officer who is back in the hands of his former DOM. We're going to learn more about the stories of (v) sebastian (vi)damian and (vii) Mark in this chapter. ENJOY!

V. SEBASTIAN AND NATE

Nate moved sebastian to the front seat of his car. He had only tied sebastian's wrists in front of him: there was no need to do anything else according to Mikhail and Ivan "for about twelve hours," and it seemed to be true. Nate was taking sebastian away, he had tied him up, and he had encountered no resistance whatsoever. When Nate sold his company, he did much better than anyone thought he would, and if he didn't want to, he would never have to work again. He was 60, and in good shape. His taste ran to younger men: men he could think of as "my boy" without having to pretend. They were easy enough to find, and rent, but he wanted something permanent. There were enough places where he could find guys who SAID that they wanted things like a permanent relationship with a daddy type, but he didn't trust them. He had brought guys home to his huge apartment and, the next day, they and something of value would have disappeared. The "service" Mikhail and Ivan offered seemed ideal. "Are you comfortable," he asked sebastian, who answered "I'm fine, but I don't know why you tied my hands." "I'll explain that soon, sebastian. For now, just relax. I think you'll like where we're going." Nate had used part of the money he had made from the sale to buy an East Side apartment with 12 rooms. HUGE was an understatement. He had bought it from a very successful doctor - "Dr. Gabe" is how he called himself. When he bought the apartment, Dr. Gabe was moving to another state, because he wanted to get away from a relationship that ended (Nate had seen the photos: the guy was hunky gorgeous), and he had found a new sub in another state. With his credentials, Gabe had no trouble in finding a very senior position, and he was going to move into a home with his sub/slave, an Asian guy named jace. The apartment's history meant that there was a "playroom" connected to a den. Nate hadn't had much opportunity to use it... yet. He smiled because sebastian would be one of the first. "Are you hungry, sweetie?" Nate asked as he pulled the car into the building's garage. "Actually, I am. I didn't eat dinner before I left to meet you." He shook his head. "I don't really know why I left so fast. I guess I was just... I don't know." Nate laughed. "Well, I asked my housekeeper to leave something in case you were. It might not be fancy, but Rachel is a good cook. Now let me get those hands. I'll untie them." "Thank you." In the hurry and the ride, sebastian's shirt had come untucked, and another button on his shirt opened. Nate felt his own hunger rising. The lad was rakishly handsome. He had to keep repeating "patience" to himself. Too soon. Let the man relax. "WOW. You live here?" Nate walked around. "It's bigger than some of the galleries I work in." Nate laughed. "So you work in art?" (He knew that, but he wanted to start conversation) "Yeah, I'm an assistant curator in French painting at the museum. Just finished my PhD." "Interesting. Then you're good at French." sebastian picked up the double entendre. "I've gotten no complaints. Whether I'm speaking or not." "Touche' mon ami, touche'. Now, I don't think Rachel cooked anything French tonight, but the kitchen is this way." He put his hand on the small of sebastian's back. No quiver, no shock, nothing. "Good" he thought. There was a lamb stew, homemade bread, and there was a plate of cookies too. "If you're a vegetarian, I'm sure I could rustle up a salad, sebastian." "No, no, this is fine. It's MORE than fine. " He paused "I'm sorry, if you told me your name, I forgot it." "I'm Nate. We'll talk about names tomorrow." "Oh. Am I staying over?" "Well, yes. Your ad said that you could do that." "I'd have to get up for work though and... " he looked down at his spoiled clothes. "I can't go to work looking like this." Nate smiled as he poured sebastian a glass of red wine. "As it happens, the director of the museum is on my speed dial. I'll give him a call tomorrow and explain that your, ahem, 'uncle' is in town and ..." sebastian blushed. "You know Dr. Ross?" "Sammy. A big check every year gets me access to his parties." "OH WOW. " He took another mouthful of stew. "This IS really good. Cooking for yourself is hard and, I can't really afford to eat stuff like this on a regular basis." "You'll eat that way now" Nate thought. He saw though, that sebastian had yawned for about the fourth time since they had come to his apartment. "You look like you're sleepy sebastian. Would you like to turn in?" "I don't want to be rude, but... yes, I'm very very sleepy." "Well, let me take you to your room. You should feel free to use the bathroom, or whatever you want. We'll figure out something about getting you clean clothes tomorrow. I am afraid, however, that I don't have sleepwear for you." "Oh, it's no problem if it's ok with you, Nate. I'm more comfortable sleeping nude." "Oh, I'm fine with that." A quick thought went through sebastian's head "I bet you are," and then the wine kicked in. "Can you show me the room, Nate? I'm sorry. Otherwise, I'm going to just fall asleep right at the table." Nate got up. He put his hand on sebastian's back and led him to a small bedroom: it wasn't where Nate planned that sebasatian would be sleeping from now on, which was HIS bedroom, but it was a start. "Thank you. I really appreciate it." "You should have everything you need. I'll be sleeping in that room with the brown door, and don't be afraid to knock if you need anything." sebastian was so tired he didn't notice that the door to the bedroom didn't lock. He took off his shoes, but that's as far as he got. In addition to being dog tired, he was kind of nervous about being naked in this house. About half an hour later, Nate walked by and opened the bedroom door. He saw sebastian sleeping. "OH, you're such a pretty boy. SUCH a pretty boy." He took a risk , bent down and kissed sebasatian's cheek. He saw the boy smile. "I'm going to join you." He said softly, and dropped his clothes. He got into the bed behind sebastian, and wrapped his arms around him. Just before he fell asleep he thought: "the spell will be over when he wakes up. I need to be ready.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx "HUH? WHAT THE? WHERE AM I? " sebastian felt Nate's arm around his middle, and tried to get out of it. Nate pulled back. He had been awake for about half an hour, just watching his prize sleep. "LET ME THE FUCK GO? WHO ARE YOU? WHAT AM I DOING HERE?" sebastian continued to struggle and he found himself on his back, pinned down by Nate. He began to scream. "HELP!!!!! HELP!!!!!" Nate gave him a look. "No one is going to hear you sebastian. I gave Rachel the day off, the apartment occupies two floors, and... no, no one will hear. " sebastian thought that an older guy like this one would be easy to push off him. He was wrong. He figured "I blacked out. I must have gone out drinking and...." "OK, whatever we did we did. Now let me go." "Afraid not, sebastian. You've been 'acquired' as they say in your field. I own you now, young man." sebastian heard him, but didn't believe him "HUH? WHAT? FUCK. THAT'S SLAVERY. " He struggled harder. That's when Nate pushed his knee into sebastian's crotch. HARD. "OW. STOP. " "Stop struggling. Relax, and I'll explain it." "Ok, ok. You win. " sebastian really did relax. "What's going on?" Nate explained to him how he had seen sebastian on a website offering 'merchandise.' He had paid for him, and then, sebastian had come home with him willingly. "And now, young man, just like one of your vases, or your paintings, you are an acquisition. You belong to Sir Nate." sebastian began to struggle again. "FUCKING BULLSHIT. I DON'T BELONG TO ANYONE. LET ME UP." Instead, Nate kept sebastian pinned down and began opening his shirt. sebastian couldn't do anything but whine: "What are you doing? What... what... STOP.... " His wrinkled white shirt opened up and then he felt Nate's mouth on his nipple. "OH GEEZ. OH GEEZ. OH.... OH...." Nate smiled and looked up at sebastian "You want me to stop?" "NO NO. YES . NO. OH OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT." Nate had licked and nibbled at the tit, and now, he was rubbing scruff over it. He could see that sebastian's hips were moving. "How long has it been, sebastian? How long for sex for you?" "THAT'S NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS. " He felt the knee back at his crotch. "Yes it is, and that kind of language will not do around here sebastian. " "Ok, ok. " He felt the knee press harder. "About 3 weeks. I fucked some little blond guy." "You FUCKED a guy?" "Yeah, I'm a Top." Nate almost laughed. Instead he whispered "Not anymore." That brought on a new wave of squirming and struggling. "I think we'll just have to get started, sebastian." Nate pulled sebastian's wrists up above his head. sebastian didn't see that there was a set of restraining cuffs there. "HEY. HEY. HELP!!!!!!" Once he had cuffed sebastian, Nate had free hands and he pulled out a large bandana. "Open your mouth pretty boy. OPEN IT." A knee to sebastian's crotch got his mouth opened, and the gag went in. Now sebastian was scared. His eyes begged Nate to stop, but Nate had this boy where he wanted him. "Get used to how that feels sebby. You're gonna be tied up a LOT. This is just the beginning." "mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmph" sebastian shook his head pleadingly, but he felt Nate pulling off his work pants. "Hmmmm. SOMETHING got you excited sebby. You're gifted, like me but... this is a HARD gift." Nate wrapped his hand around sebastian's cock, and the feeling overcame sebastian. His head rolled, and he moaned. He moaned again when he felt Nate's thumb at his ass. "Stop cinching sebby. Trust me. I'm going to get in, one way or the other, and if you relax a little, it'll hurt less." sebastian was trying to be realistic. He was going to be fucked. He hadn't been fucked since that seminar in modern art: that guy who called himself Vito.. GOD he had a big cock. Thinking about it and then seeing Nate's. Nate's was bigger. He wondered how old Nate was: he was in great shape, but a 30 year old didn't own an apartment like this. Or fuck the way this man did. OH SHIT IT FELT GOOD." It was huge, but good. How the hell? He seemed to be able to pick out each and every one of sebastian's sensitive spots. Nate noticed that the moans had turned from desperation to pleasure. "You like how that feels, don't you sebby?" sebastian hesitated, but shook his head yes. "Good. There's gonna be a LOT of that. Lots of bondage, lots of fucking. Lots of you learning that... your place is at my feet, and I'm Master Nate. Or Sir Nate. And your topping days are over. Unless I decide I wanna watch you fuck someone. UNDERSTAND.?" Nate's cock felt so good in him and... he had to be honest with himself. Being tied up this way was... he always had that fantasy. He closed his eyes and... FUCK. He had just shot. Nate laughed. "Beginner's mistake boy. You know enough to know: the DOM shoots first." He took sebastian's balls in his hand. His cock was still in sebastian. "This one we'll forget. From now on though: if you don't control yourself, there will be punishment. Understand?" As sebastian shook his head, Nate quivered, and sebastian felt something he hadn't felt in a while: cum pouring into his asshole. "I bred you sebby. You're mine now? Understand?" sebastian still didn't understand what was happening, but, he shook his head yes. "GOOD. We'll take care of some administrative stuff this afternoon, like getting your stuff from your apartment, getting your address changed, yadda yadda. Don't worry about missing the day's work. You'll be back tomorrow. And you'll be coming here after work." sebastian was still gagged. He shook his head yes. He didn't know what else to do.

VI DAMIAN AND PHILLIP

Many would consider Phillip a sad case. A former math prodigy, he had been expelled from a top notch graduate program after there had been too many reports of him harassing other students: mostly graduate students, but also advanced undergraduates. They were always blond, always thin, and always blue eyed. His mother had been brought in - his father was long absent. She took him to every psychologist, every psychiatrist, every social worker she could find. The diagnosis was always the same: there was nothing wrong. Phillip was a spoiled child with very strong sexual desires. He thought that his size and his strength, which had allowed him to bully the same type of boy when he was younger, would still work. He was wrong. Mathematics had always been his interest. However poorly he did in other studies, he was usually smarter than the teachers. His graduate professors were impressed too. One had wondered how he managed to get his work done, with all the time he spent, well, cruising. Then things started coming apart. Phillip had decided that, since the teachers loved him for his work, he could get away with "other things." He was wrong. Whether his professors were willing to look the other way or not, administration wasn't. "Three strikes you're out Phillip" is what the Dean of Admissions said when the third complaint had been filed and proven. Actually, "proven" is not the right word. Phillip admitted to doing everything "that cute hot blond" as he called him at the hearing, had alleged. The panel didn't take long to make a decision, and Phillip was packing, back to the house where he had lived with his mother. Like the old woman in the shoe, she didn't know what to do. She loved her son, but... this tested her. She wound up helping him keep his urges under control by making sure he had "mad money" as she called it. He used it to rent call boys - until he had restrained one overnight, and he had gone to the police. "I WANT ONE OF MY OWN" he had screamed at his mother when she bailed him out. She died soon after that. No will. Phillip was her only child, her husband was not to be found and after all was settled, all were stunned that she had left an estate of just over 6 million dollars. Craftily, before she died, Phillip's mother had put management of 4 million of the money in the hands of a handsome, blond lawyer. Karl was onto Phillip's desires, and had no interest in facilitating them. He was in charge of the money. Phillip had 2 million. It would have been fine except, all that mathematical knowledge was now turned to day trading. Before long, that 2 million was 10 million. He renovated the house including turning his mother's bedroom into a cell: the front door was replaced by a jail gate, and the furniture by furniture more appropriate for a prison. Her bedroom had its own bathroom, so that was set. Then he redesigned another room with sexual toys: mostly dildos (since however gifted he was, mathematically, Phillip was NOT, physically), and tickling toys. His last bit of major "renovation" was really not renovation. Phillip bought a closet full of clothes that would fit his ideal sub. And he waited. And then... Damian became available. "You better get used to that position, blondie, you're gonna be in it a lot" Phillip called out to the hogtied young man lying on the backseat of his car. Damian just sort of nodded: the effect of the camera still hadn't worn off. "It makes a perfect way for you to get tickled. All I need to do is get those shoes off." "mmmmmph" Damian got out, agreeing with him. He didn't realize what was about to happen. He wasn't massively strong, but he was strong enough: Phillip parked the car in the house's garage, and then he hauled Damian over his shoulder, into the house. Damian's hair needed washing, his clothes were soiled from the job he had been doing just hours ago, and Phillip didn't care. His hand swept across Damian's ass, and he almost cackled "Pretty boy, you're mine."

"We're gonna start with the gag, and then I'll take it off." Phillip had dropped Damian on the cot of the cell, face down. Damian began to get nervous, as he felt his sneakers get pulled off. He felt what seemed like a toothbrush get dragged across each foot. "MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMPH" even in his stupor, he tried to pull away. "NO YOU DON'T. NO YOU DON'T PRETTY BOY." Phillip began running the brush over Damian's feet harder, and harder. Damian's socks gave him some protection until Phillip pulled them off. He switched to the pizza cutter, running it so lightly over Damian's feet that it didn't hurt him, but it drove him nuts. "MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMPH" He squirmed and tried to get his feet out from under Phillip's arm. "You know, that just makes me wanna do it harder, cutie pie." Phillip put down the pizza cutter and got to work with his fingers. Damian thought he was going to pee himself he was laughing so hard. Phillip picked up the toothbrush again, and poked in between Damian's toes. "There are a million ways to tickle feet, Damian, and only a few to get an upper body. Still... they are... effective." Phillip loosened the hogtie, and flipped Damian on his back. He took out the gag, and then he opened Damian's shirt. "Hmmmm. You're hairier than I thought you'd be. I'll take care of that as soon as I can. for now...." Phillip shaped his hand like a shovel, and began to tickle Damian's belly, all around his navel. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAAHAAHAAHAHAAHA. THAT TICKLES. STOP. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA." "You want me to stop? OK. PITS!!!!!." Damian was ticklish all over but his pits were the worse. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA." Phillip saw the look on Damian's face. "OH. I guess we found the sweet spot. Good to know. Good to know." He stopped and Damian tried to catch his breath. While he did, Phillip dropped his pants. He started jerking. "Oh, my pretty boy. My sweet Damian. My blond prince.. My captive TICKLE prince." Damian would remember the look on Phillip's face as he said "TICKLE prince," and the spray of jizz that hit his belly. For such a small cock, the milk that came out of Phillip was surprising. When he was done, he zipped his pants. The spell hadn't lifted yet, so he had time to untie Damian and to lock the door on the cell. "Tomorrow, we'll go over the rules. You'll need some sleep, Damian. Welcome to life as a slave boy." Damian slept and the spell lifted. He dreamed about what had just happened. He woke up at about 3, in the same clothes he had been wearing since he went to work. He looked around. "Where the FUCK am I?" he said to himself. He saw the room and didn't recognize it. He realized his feet and ribs were sore, and then he remembered. He got up and pulled at the cell door. It didn't budge. He pulled again. One more time. Then he started yelling. "LET ME OUT OF HERE YOU FUCKING PERVERT!" as he shook the bars. Phillip was in a bedroom at the end of the hall. "It's MR Pervert" he laughed, and turned in his bed to sleep. Damian screamed for about an hour before he started crying. Then, there was silence.

VII MARK AND CHRIS

Chris had a thing for body builders, he admitted it. "There are more builders who take it up the ass than you'd think" he told one of his friends, who looked over his glasses and said "WAY TOO MUCH INFORMATION," Christopher. For Chris, who was rail thin, perhaps an obsession with big men was not surprising. His cock, which measured at just under ten inches when it was hard, would probably suggest that he topped. What his body type did not reveal, was his hopeless indecision. There was a big, HUGE body builder at his gym - Frank - and Chris had a "loco d'amor" crush on him. He knew that Frank "belonged" to someone: he knew that because whoever it was had put a boy collar on Frank, which he wore when he was training clients. Chris didn't know if the relationship was an open one, or who fucked Frank at night, and he never found out. Instead, he hit the web, looking for his "type." "There needs to be a website: 'bodybuilder bottoms' he joked sometimes. A friend put the idea in his head "Turn them into bottoms, Chris. I mean... that cock... " "You think... you think they'd turn for me..." "Why do you think it's a 'turn'? Your chances are pretty good you'll find one." He didn't. Not until he went to the dark web. He hadn't really intended to look for someone whom he could OWN, but he looked. Chris was stunned to see so many sites advertising "boys for sale." Unfortunately, in just about every case they really WERE boys. Chris wanted someone older: a contemporary. BIG. The bigger the better. And his friend had convinced him: why settle for someone who had his own ideas of what a bottom should be, when he could train someone? He found Mikhail and Ivan's site, and sent off his request. Now, how could he afford it? He checked his bank account. It would be a foolhardy purchase, but... if he whored out the guy occasionally, and.... "SCREW THAT. This one is for me," he thought. Chris owned a small apartment in a very high end section of the city. He lived in a house in a less expensive section of town. He figured if he sold the apartment, he could make things work. He put it on the market. A bidding war started before Ivan and Mikhail got back to him. "That man is gonna be MINE" he thought, as he poked the response to Mikhail and Ivan. Getting the money out of his account took some explaining, but he got it. He got to the boys' place late: there were only 2 hours left in the spell when he picked up Mark. "You may want to make sure he's restrained, Chris" Ivan suggested. "The spell wears off gradually, so he'll begin to come to little by little. You don't want him to crush you," he laughed. "No, that's a good idea. I didn't bring any rope or anything though. Mikhail laughed as he handed him plenty. "On the house. " Chris smiled and looked at Mark "TURN AROUND. HANDS BEHIND YOUR BACK." "Yes sir," a very meek bodybuilder answered. "You may need this too." He handed Chris a leather gag. "NICE. You want photos?" "Not necessary. Enjoy him." Chris planned to. The trunk of his car was just large enough to get the 6'3" Mark into it. Chris made him fold up his legs and threw the trunk down. Ivan had been right. Mark began to come around in the trunk. He was woozy, but he eventually figured out that he was in a car trunk. He tried to scream. When nothing happened, he began pushing his feet against the car. He was strong, but not strong enough to bend the metal. The car stopped. "Thank God. A chance to get out." Chris popped the trunk, and Mark saw the tall, thin man, standing over him with a charged tazer. "You can behave, or I can knock you out. Your choice. We understand each other?" Mark was still gagged. He shook his head yes. "Let's understand something Mark. You were captured. I don't know how, and I don't care. You were offered for sale, and I bought you. NOW, you belong to me. I expect you to behave accordingly. "MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMPH" now Mark was shaking his head NO. Chris pointed the tazer at his crotch. "You're not gonna use that anymore, so... I COULD blow it away right now... Or... you can start to accept this." "mmmmmmmmmmmph." Mark realized that, at least for now, he didn't have any choice. (He had no idea that Chris' house was less than ten minutes from where he lived). He let Chris hoist him out of the trunk and he moved, slowly because of the cramping in his body, as he was led into Chris' home. "The wrists stay tied, but I'll take off the gag if you keep quiet. That way you can rehydrated. Deal? Mark shook his head yes. Chris came back with a large bottle of gatorade, and took off the gag. "DRINK. SLOWLY." Mark was used to slow rehydration from workouts. He took small sips and when he was finished, he thought it wouldn't hurt to thank Chris. "Thank you. I appreciate that." Chris smiled. "I like good manners. At least we don't have to teach those. BOTTOM" The word hit Mark, hard. He HAD bottomed, but he was truly versatile. He topped AND bottomed. When Chris dropped his pants though, and he saw the "snake come out of the can" as Chris said, he began thinking "I can't take that," and the first time Chris tried to fuck him, it was true. Chris got seven inches or so into a tied down Mark, before he began begging Chris to stop. "IT REALLY HURTS SIR. PLEASE. PLEASE." "Well, ok. For now. But you're not getting untied until I get it in completely." Chris pulled out his cock. He thought about jerking off, but no.. he wanted to put a load in Mark as soon as he could. Instead, he teased Mark's cock and played with his nipples until he heard the moans, and saw the facial expression that he knew meant... Mark was ready to explode. "Nope. Not until I get mine." Chris left Mark tied down and came back in an hour. This time, he got to about 8.5 inches before Mark's begging got to him. "Not bad, stud. You'll take it all before you know it. I think though, we're gonna call it a night." Chris tied Mark's ankles so that he couldn't get away, and then he began squeezing his nipples, HARD. "I'm gonna keep doing that until you promise you won't try anything." "NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNG. I promise. I promise, Sir" Mark still didn't know where he was, and he didn't know where Chris had put all of his ID, his phone, his money, so he peacefully went along with it. He allowed Chris to tie his wrists together. Chris stripped, and lay down behind Mark. "I can't wait. I cannot fucking wait to get my whole cock in you. Then, we move to our next lesson."

It didn't take long. The next morning, Chris rolled Mark on his back, and finger fucked him. He had released the ankle restraints, and Mark was wide open when all ten inches went in. "Like a pregnant woman dilating, studmuffin" Chris smiled, when he felt his balls hit up against Mark's ass. "Thank God," Mark thought, when the semen began to fill him. "On the other hand." He realized how hard he was, when Chris took his cock and began to play it. "You wanna cum for me, Mark?" "OH GOD YES SIR." "You understand your role?" "Yes Sir. Your bottom Sir." "Heh heh. My BITCH bottom" "Yes sir. I'm your BITCH bottom." Mark needed to cum, desperately. if that's what it took, that's what it took. For a big, studly man, Mark's voice was nasal and high when he shot, and shoot he did. "Now THAT's what I call a good fuck," Chris said, as he smacked Mark's balls. "We're gonna do it again, soon. for now..." He took off all of Mark's ropes but he had the tazer in hand. "Get your shorts on." He pointed to the red workout shorts that Mark had been wearing under his jeans. "Yes sir." He slid them on. Chris held out the tazer. "THAT WAY." He pointed toward a closet. He opened the door. There was a chair, restraints, and a gag in it. Nothing else. "SIT. This is gonna be your 'meditation room' for a few hours, until I'm ready for that ass again. " Chris tied Mark to the chair. As he left, closing the door behind him, Mark wondered what he had gotten into. He pulled at the ropes. No give. He'd figure out a way. He must have dozed off because he heard the door open. Was Chris ready to fuck him again? "I think you need another half hour. With these." Chris had two nasty looking clothes pins in his hand. One went on each of Mark's nipples, provoking a scream through Mark's gagged mouth. Chris turned over an hour glass. "This is really a half hour glass. I have one too." When it's finished, I'll come back. If I'm hard enough, I'm gonna fuck you a second time." "MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMPH" mark struggled again, but when he fought against the ropes, it seemed the clothes pins hurt more. He calmed down. In half an hour, Chris WAS ready. He pulled Mark out of the closet by the clothespins. This time, Chris got into his ass much easier, and Mark began to realize that he liked it.

TO BE CONTINUED

Next: Chapter 7


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