Mr Sexy's half opened eyes adjusted to the blurry image of a large, bare chested figure above him. Eventually the haze grew clearer and he could see one of his strongest enemies with that famous cocky smirk.
"Did you have a good rest?" Funk Feet asked.
Mr Sexy's speech was muffled by some sort of smelly gag.
"Oh right, that's where I left my socks," Funk Feet laughed. "Tied to your mouth. I started getting too hot and sweaty after my workout . . . I just had to take them off." Funk Feet flexed his 18 inch biceps to emphasize his point.
The stench was revolting, and it was trapped in Mr Sexy's nostrils while that smug smirk was trapped in his sight. Mr Sexy was tied up with Funk Feet's sweat stained shirt.
"You like my stench don't you, hero? Does it turn you on?"
Mr Sexy's blue eyes were hot with anger and resiliance as he looked up at his foe, yet he couldn't deny the arousal in he felt in his groin.
Funk Feet laughed as he saw the growing cock of Mr Sexy, and decided to make things hotter by lifting his now size 15 foot and squashing Mr Sexy's face beneath it.
"You're a sexy little hero, but you're mine now," said Funk Feet. "So give up pretty boy. Admit I turn you on."
Mr Sexy's muffled speech reminded Funk Feet that he had no say in the matter. So Funk Feet decided to . . .
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