the skinhead was conscious – and very vocal.
He closed the door to the soundproofed room firmly,
and let the boy get a good look at him.
In the wall-mirror on the far side of the room Erik could see his own reflection:
fuck-off motorcycle boots; skintight, sprayed-on shiny,
thin black leather jeans which he’d chosen because they showed the bulge of his cock and balls perfectly;
a biker jacket; black leather gauntlets; and a black leather mask.
Along with the studs and chains,
he looked like a demented sexual pervert
- which was exactly (a) what he’d intended,
and (b) what he was....."
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