Tom's pale complexion and jet black hair are the first thing you see as the box's tiny lid is pulled open. He reaches into the box with an eager expression on his face, and wraps his hand around your entire body, muffling your confused and panicked demands for an explanation. "Can't believe he's finally here!" Tom says to his bandmate, Mike. All of the guys from Tom's band are there to celebrate his purchase of a Six-Inch Slave, which is now seen as something of an initiation into Hollywood. "Let me hold him!" says Mike, snatching you from his friend. Then De'mar shoves in front of the others, wrenching you from Mike. "C'mon, guys, give me a turn!" Your body is tossed back and forth like a rag doll. You feel your lips brush against the rough skin of some-one's palm, and the unique taste of their sweat stays on your tongue. You're too stunned by all of this to be anything but passive in the young men's hands while they fight over Tom's new pet. Finally, Tom's slightly nasal though vibrant voice dominates the others' bickering, and he orders the them to hand you back. You feel yourself hit the flat palm of Tom's hand and you stare up at the man's shadowed face as it comes into focus, recalling where you recognise him from. He swipes his hanging black fringe the the side with his free hand and gives you a broad, toothy grin. "Hey, man. You know where you are?" "Uum.. No.. I- I know you from tv.. I like your new song.." You say uncertainly. You're terrified of the giant man, but he seems to be acting friendly, and you want to stay on his good side. At Tom's side, his friends chortle at your stupidity. "That's great, little dude," Tom smiles, still feigning kindness. "I hope you like me as much, 'cuz you're gonna be seeing a lot more of me.." As Tom goes on, your expression turns from eager to please to scared to death.... After Tom's little speech, he decides to familiarise you with his body by..
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