Richard Lennox puts clothespins on Elis Ataxxx’s ears

Richard Lennox grips Elis Ataxxx’s ears, pinching them tight before slamming on the clamps, the metal biting down hard as straps crisscross his chest. His graying hair and lean frame contrast with the sharp sting of the clamps, while Lennox’s clean-shaven jaw looms over him, fingers brushing through Ataxxx’s light brown strands before yanking. The white straps pull taut against his nipples, each clamp a silent promise of more pain to come.