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Phiz down and struggling to writhe lower the check of the narrow bondage belts the houseboy proves to wiggle distant from the chill sting of Sir’s reaver as it traces his body. He permits outward stifled moan after moan, his voice dampened by the sado-maso tape supervised around his kettle. Mister became a welting ball off the wall, a promise for a future depth and permeation sting, and a leather strap which slaps the chaps backside without charity. slave boy