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Turn s mouth left my mouth, touched Race s
cheek, pushed him off the bite, and licked it
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soothingly.
Race put teeth on Turn s neck, then looked up
at me. I saw heat in his eyes. Devilment, but honest
heat, too. Look the other way, rubio.
I obeyed. Race s mouth came around to meet
mine, demanding but not so hard as before. Not
hurting.
My cock throbbed against Turn, who rolled his
hips, scrubbing his cock against the base of mine.
I clutched fistfuls of his shirt, and whimpered into
Race s mouth.
Turn took a deep, shuddering breath. Tell me
you have rubbers.
I m clean, Sco y, and unless you ve
I had to prove my manhood. It s rubbers for
everything until I can get tested.
I thought of my two loose teeth, the split cheek
inside my mouth. But I d taken chances before.
Turn held me tighter, so I had to work to breathe.
Plus, I don t know what Senior gave KT.
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Whoa Father didn t do me.
Turn s heart stopped. It started again, slow thuds
against my chest. They made me listen to it, KT. I
heard you saying no. I heard the whole
You heard KT beating Senior to a bloody pulp.
When Senior used the ca le prod, it was bad, but
then KT went berserk. If we could bring out that
effect in the arena, we d make a fortune.
Turn clamped tighter on me, too much for my
bruised rib. I made a noise.
He loosened his grip immediately. Why don t
you have an ice pack on your face? Where else did
he hurt you?
That was Turn, thinking of how to take care of
me when he looked at least as bad-off. I snuggled
my abused face into where his meaty neck merged
with his bull-strong shoulders.
He reeked of metallic fear-sweat and stale
tobacco smoke, alien smells for him, but that nook
still fit my face perfectly. He held me as if I were
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precious, and in that moment I was.
But he had to be miserable, knowing he wasn t
clean. I looked at Race, his onyx eyes measuring
us, gauging, calculating I couldn t guess what. I
cleared my throat, which was still scratchy. Will
that shower stall fit all of us at once?
Race grasped a fistful of my hair and another
fistful of Turn s. Oh, yes. The corners of his dark
eyes crinkled deeply. I ll get the straight razor.
Turn stiffened. No!
Race smiled a fake smile. His eyes widened, dark
mirrors, reflecting my face and Turn s together, and
his nostrils flared. Oh, yes.
· · ·
Turn shaved me, face and neck and crotch and
ass.
I had quite a lot to say about it, all under my
breath, but Race had his way. He also had an antique
silver straight-razor, with my name engraved on it.
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I had no clue how to use a straight razor. Nor
was I sure I wanted to know how Turn had learned
his technique.
But Turn did know what he was doing, or he
improvised perfectly. He soaped me up with a cedar-
scented soap, and had me sit on Race s lap (Race had
commandeered the si ing shelf) and set a steaming
towel in my crotch while he stropped the blade.
Then he rinsed me, soaped me again, and knelt in
front of me while I rested one foot on his braced
knee. He pulled at my scrotum steadily, warning me
before he made any twist or shift, and swore with
the same steadiness.
I stopped talking at the first cold touch of steel.
Didn t want to distract him.
Turn s left foot had five blackened and broken
toenails. Two toes had swollen to grotesque
proportions. He hadn t said a word about them. Nor
had he got them by kicking a brick wall; the cracks
were from base to tip, not from side to side.
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I remembered when my toenails came off, how
bad the toes had hurt and how long those nails
had taken to grow back properly. I wanted to gut
whoever had done that to him.
But if Race was around, maybe I wasn t the one
who had a right to exact retribution.
Race held me up from behind, kept me from
slipping or from changing my mind. He folded my
arms in front of me, resting his callused hand on my
crossed wrists as a reminder to keep them high, out
of Turn s way. His other hand moved up and down
my lats, abs, and flanks. He occasionally fingered
Turn s short black hair. Turn would snarl, and Race
would laugh.
Race had arranged the lighting so the glass
walls of the shower enclosure acted as mirrors. I
had seen Egyptian wall-carvings of teenagers being
circumcised from this position. The comparison
did nothing for my comfort level. The icy blade
whispered over my balls, which kept pulling on their
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internal cords and trying to crawl up inside me.
Turn and Race both kept saying this would go
faster if I would just relax.
Wasn t going to happen. I trusted Turn with a
blade. Really, I did. But these were my nuts, and I
was fond of them.
This is going to itch like hell as it grows back,
Turn mu ered darkly.
Unless he keeps them shaved. Race pinched
my nipple.
Stop making him jump!
I didn t say anything. My balls pulled all the
way back to my spine and up to my navel. I couldn t
keep whining about that or about the risk of ge ing
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