Anyone attempting to push the panelinwards while the brace was in place would be unable to do so, as MarkusWagner had discovered. Fate had then droppe... the perfect patsy in ourlaps when Gruber was given the task of patrolling the upper floors. Itwas me who had retrieved an ashtray containing several of his cigarettebutts in order to further sell our stitch-up of Gruber, of course. Thewhole point of a patsy is that once he's been apprehended the search iscalled off and the real culprit is then. This was in contrast to the second group, whose adherents wore leather collars, chastity belts, bondage harnesses and various other restraining devices. The demeaning apparel was clearly indicative of their status as sexual submissives. I imagined they had been coerced into this display of ritual public humiliation by their leather clad Masters and Mistresses. The heaving, semi-naked throng of people was an astonishing sight. But then this was a private fetish club and its members were not. But aside from the fact Duane no longer left the toilet seat up ourdaily lives were pretty much the same. He still didn't want me to seehim naked though. He had bought some larger sized pants to disguise hislack of a bulge in the groin, but despite his best efforts I had spotteda definite camel toe a few times. We both knew what was down there, butneither of us was ready to address it yet.Sometime in Late April Duane came back from a doctor appointment andtold me he was officially "finished,". Then let’s meet here every Saturday to review your progress as a group. Does that sound alright?”“Yes, Mr. Johnson.” The boys said in unison. “But gay sex is something you need to practice.” Bruce added. “Often. Very often. Are you boys confident that you’ll keep fucking each other and trying new, nasty fun things together?”“Yes, Mr. Johnson.” They replied.“Good.” Bruce said. “Make a note of everything in your pink journals. And really push each other’s limits. Touch each other in public. Go on.