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Enclosed in a latex straitjacket, he's a rubber-wrapped mummy, every squirm and struggle futile. The latex's sheen glistens with his sweat as he's hoisted up, his body dangling, helpless. A plastic bag slips over his head, his breath misting the clear film, each gasp a battle against the latex's unrelenting confinement. The electric shocks begin, jolts of pleasure-pain dancing along his nerves, his body convulsing in the latex's embrace. The bag tightens, his vision blurring, the world fading to black as he teeters on the edge, the line between pleasure and peril tantalizingly thin.