Stretching into the heavens, Justin Timberlake's tall, masculine form towers over you like a skyscraper. Your eyes follow his tight grey shirt-covered abdomen up to his chest; his neck; his unshaven jaw and deep, staring eyes. "Cool.." he says, in awe, and snatches you up, quickly and easily tearing off each item of clothing you're wearing one by one. Your heart hammering in your chest, totally naked and covered in goose-flesh, your hands dart to cover your private parts but they're quickly flicked away by Justin's huge thumb. At such a giant scale, the man's skin is as coarse as sandpaper as it rolls over your exposed ball sack, making you wince in pain. Justin lifts an eyebrow, wrinkling his forehead. "Awesome.. Well, I got some work to do, little guy, so you can get acquainted with the other slaves while I'm gone - You know, get used to slave life and shit." With that, Justin bends down, pulls a box out from under his bed, drops you in, flips the lid and kicks it back under with his white tennis shoe...
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