Our amazingly buff delivery boy stands in a cold, dark room, his ankles roped to eyehooks in the wall. He looks around, trying to figure out what’s next, but he’s strangely compliant, like he knows things will only be worse if he resists. The man chains Trevor’s wrists to the ceiling, making every muscle in his sculpted body tense and stretch. Trevor hears a cranking noise and feels his legs being pulled apart. This can’t be good. Next week: The whip.
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