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James returned a few minutes ago. He didn’t seem very happy. “You are proving more difficult zan vee had imagined. But not to vorry – zis next guy vill sort you out.” He’d removed the butt plug, taken you off the horse and strapped you down to a table with your legs wide apart, but your arms less extended – you can almost, but not quite, close your elbows to your sides. “Ziss is a good position… for some sings.” He’d gone again, and you’d waited for the next guy. The door opens once more and you look up. There is a sinister figure, all in black leather, and masked. The eye holes leer at you sadistically. He comes over and stands looking down at you. “Mmm. Nice and slim. I like that.” He runs the tip of one finger slowly across your abs. “Now tell me, sexy boy, are you… ticklish?” You can almost feel your balls shrivel up and hide. Ticklish? you’re horrendously ticklish. Not that you’ve ever been tickled before – certainly not while you’re strapped down like this – but even the thought of it is enough to make you want to curl up into a very tight ball. You don’t answer him. “Well, we’ll soon see. And talking about seeing, boys are usually much more ticklish if they can’t see...” He fetches a leather hood from the shelves and holds it up so you can look at it. “It’s a loose one. I’m not even going to lock it on. You could get it off quite easily if you could reach it. But you won’t be able to reach it.” He pulls it over your head, and his voice is suddenly dripping with sadism. “And you won’t be able to see a fucking thing.” You wait, not knowing what’s gong to happen or when. Suddenly his hands start to work on you. And you scream.
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