Max Carter’s tattooed hands grip Logan Cross’s wrists, twisting the red straps tight as he bends him over the gym bench. The blond’s smooth, muscular back arches under each sharp slap, his ass turning bright as Carter’s palm connects again and again. Logan’s neck flushes where Carter’s lips press, fingers digging into his shoulders before the next strike lands. The straps bite into his arms, holding him still while Carter’s focus stays on the reddening flesh.
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