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In the dimly lit, private room, the naively straight Russian boy stands, hands stuffed in his pockets, eyes darting nervously. He's been told he just needs to 'hang out,' but the bulges in the men's pants hint at a different agenda. As hands reach out, touching his arms, his chest, he tenses, but the men are gentle, patient. They guide him to the bed, their voices low, soothing. He watches, wide-eyed, as they undress, revealing toned, muscular bodies and throbbing erections. His heart races as he's encouraged to touch, to taste, his straight world crumbling around him.