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Notice: This story is a work of fiction and contains explicit sexual material. It depicts consensual sexual acts between males of various ages, including young boys' sexual experiences with other boys and with men. It may also include - incest, sex between minors, sex between minors and adult males, and sexual fetish. If gay content, descriptions of hot gay sex, or actual dialogue in an erotic story, offends you please don't read further. This story is mine: all rights reserved by the author with the exception of its use by Nifty.org. If stories of this nature offend you, or if you are under 18 years of age, or if reading such stories is illegal in your location...please leave now. This is PURE FICTION for ADULT ENTERTAINMENT only; If you are offended by such material, do not read this work of fiction. The names, events, activities, and circumstances are fictitious; they are not based on any known living person(s). The reason for a site like this is to get our rocks off without participating in illegal activity. The author in no way condones nor encourages acts, which mirror the practices described in this entirely fictional story.

 

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(gay/adult youth) (gay/historical)

 

 

After Bosworth Field

Chapter 25

 

Cast: The Seabrook brothers: Aldwin (10), Barden (12) and identical twins Manley and Maven (15).
Mitchell Seabrook (fka Highmoon) (22), a young officer in the forces of John de la Pole, 1st Earl of Lincoln, who was loyal to King Richard III.
Hugh Barclay (12), John Barclay (9), distant cousins of the Seabrook brothers and life partners of Barden and Aldwin, respectively
Mark Dextere (14), Luke Dextere (15), François Leroy (10), boys rescued, by Mitchell, from the Château de Chinon

Albert Rousseau (14), boy rescued from the streets of London

Cynebald Willarde (14), Derby rentboy who collapses in the open doorway of the Gower Street house.

 

Previously:

 

Mark and Luke Dextere, brothers of John, have been rescued from the Château de Chinon, along with another sorely abused boy, François Leroy; they are riding hard to Calais and on to England. The French soldier, Robert Bricot, who has been significantly instrumental in helping Mitchell to free the boys, has also left with Mitchell and the boys.

 

-------------------

 

Scene: Outside the house in Gower Street, Derby, which is now the city base for The Seabrook Academy for Boys, on the morning of Saturday, 4 August, 1487. A distressed 14-year-old boy knocks on the door.

 

Ainsley Ewart answers the door.

 

"Hello, young man, may I help you?"

 

The boy falls forward in a faint, and Ainsley just catches him before he hits his head on the floor.

 

"Tattan, come quickly, there's a young boy here; he's just passed out and fallen into my arms."

 

Tattan ran to the door and, together, the two 18-year-olds carried the young waif into the lounge room, where they placed him on the couch.

 

"Fetch some water, and towels, and flannels, please, Tattan."

 

Within a few minutes, a pail was beside the couch and Ainsley was gently washing the boy's face and hands with the lightly-dampened flannels.

 

After a few minutes, the boy began to stir, and mumbled, "I'm sorry about that, I haven't eaten for nearly two days. I normally get fed by the punters but, for some reason, there haven't been any around for the last couple of days. I used to visit this place, occasionally, when the Hamiltons owned it. I heard rumours that some school for waifs and strays had taken over the house; so, I just thought I'd give the door a try."

 

Ainsley responded, with a beaming smile on his face, "Hello there, my name's Ainsley. You gave us a bit of a fright there. What's your name, lad?"

 

"Cynebald, Cynebald Willarde. I'm the bastard son of a duke. He died a few years ago, in a battle I think, and then my mother died two years ago: I was left on my own in this big city; so, I used my body to keep alive."

 

"Cynebald, do you like being a rentboy?"

 

"Not really, the sex is OK, but some of the men can be very rough and brutal. Maybe, in a few years, I'll be able to take up an apprenticeship but, until then, my body is my bread."

 

"Well, Cynebald, you're a lucky boy."

 

"Lucky, opening my bum hole to lots of strange men, being whipped and caned and spanked until my arse is black and blue; you call that lucky?!"

 

"Calm down, Cynebald, you didn't let me finish."

 

"Sorry sir, I have a bit of a short fuse. Do you want to spank me for speaking out of turn?"

 

"No, Cynebald, those days are over for you."

 

"My partner Tattan and I, are senior boys at The Seabrook Academy for Boys, which is at Sutton Cheney, only a day's ride from here. You're fortunate, because this house is empty a lot of the time, but we were allowed to come here for a long weekend, to have a senior boys' break, so to say. The rumours you heard are, basically, true.

 

Now, what do you say if you sleep here on this couch for the next few nights and, on Tuesday morning, we'll all ride back to the school together. You won't be earning any more money, from your body, but you will be schooled, fed, clothed and grow up to be a good, sound Englishman. Like us, you might be heading off to Cambridge, or Oxford, in a few years. We took, and passed, our entrance exams, a few months ago; we'll be leaving for Cambridge in a few weeks."

 

"Who pays for all this, Ainsley?"

 

"Don't you worry about that! Let me just say, you've paid the only fees, which the academy requires, many, many times over, based on what you just said."

 

"You mean with my bum hole. What is this school?"

 

"It's a school for boys who have been distressed through warfare, or have become orphaned and have found the need to sell their bodies, just like you have, just to keep alive. Know this, though, Cynebald, the academy is not a boy-whore house, like this place used to be. Many of the boys have taken partners, and entered into life-long commitments, just like Tattan and I, but no-one will force you into that. I know there is at least one boy at the academy who was raped by a horrid man, who also raped me and my partner, when we were younger; he has sworn off queer sex forever, but he's still a very valued scholar at the school.

 

For now, though, I think you need feeding. We've got some nice bread and fresh butter which we brought from the academy's farm, and some cheese and even some mead. Does that sound good?"

 

"That sounds great, but I'll pass on the mead please, water will do for me. Do you have fresh milk at the academy?"

 

"Oh yes, Cynebald, the academy was, and still is, a farm, owned by the Seabrooks, hence the name. The Seabrook brothers, and their cousins, are the founders of the school. We get fresh milk for breakfast every day."

 

Cynebald had a hearty meal and, then, promptly fell asleep on the couch. Ainsley loosened Cynebald's clothing, laid a blanket over him and the two senior boys retired to their own bedroom.

 

Some hours later, Cynebald stirred, and looked around himself.

 

"Oh, yes, those two boys fed me and then left me to rest. They even loosened my clothing to make me more comfortable. Maybe I've landed on solid ground this time? I wonder where they are?"

 

Cynebald fixed himself up and went searching. He found a door, that appeared to possibly lead to a basement, but it was locked and barred, so he wandered upstairs and saw a room marked Senior Boys' Play Room. The door was locked, but he could hear low voices from inside; he even thought he could hear the unmistakable sound of queer sex, a sound he was very used to.

 

"Well, at least they're still here. I'll just wander back down and I'm sure they'll come and find me soon."

 

Tattan and Ainsley had, of course, heard their visitor's steps on the stairs and his retreat from their door. They themselves, though, had only woken up a short while earlier and were enjoying a late afternoon coitus.

 

About half an hour later, Tattan and Ainsley came back down to the front room, to find Cynebald, sitting up, and naked.

 

"Cynebald, are you OK?"

 

"Of course, I am, I'm ready for you now. You want me, don't you? All that bull, about not needing to be a rentboy anymore, it can't be true."

 

Tattan and Ainsley burst into tears and sat on either side of Cynebald and put their arms around him.

 

Tattan spoke, "My poor wee boy, how abused you must have been. It's all true. You don't need to sell your body anymore, ever. Now let's get you dressed and you can take us to the best eating-house in Derby, we'll pay."

 

Cynebald, now himself in tears, responded, "I think I must have died and gone to heaven but I do feel like I'm still alive."

 

With that, he kissed both young men, on the cheek, stood up and got dressed.

 

"I'm not allowed in the alehouses, but some of the punters used to take me to The Gatehouse Inn, where there's an all-age dining room. I normally order their basic pottage, but as this is a special meal, to celebrate you rescuing me, I suggest we go for the roast beef and carrots with bread."

 

The luxury meal was had and the boy, accompanied by his two older cousins, the cover stated to the innkeeper, returned to their short-term home at Seabrook House in Gower Street.

 

Over the next few days, Tattan and Ainsley recounted, to Cynebald, all they knew about the academy, and reassured him that he would well and truly fit in. They still had their own private times, during which Cynebald was happy enough to take a nap or snooze on the couch, and he continued to shake his head at the fact that these young men, who were clearly queer, showed no interest in using him, in the way he had been used for the last couple of years. They treated him like a little brother and they were his big brothers, looking after him. They took walks around the town together and Cynebald showed them all the sights, like All Saint's Church, Castle Hill, Derby School, a nice walk along by the River Derwent and some good merchant's shops.

 

First thing on the morning of Tuesday, August 7th, 1487, the Seabrook Academy for Boys pony and trap, duly adorned with the correct insignia, was loaded up, including a few mementoes, of times past, which Cynebald had retrieved from a very special hidey-hole nearby.

 

Just before Vespers that evening, one boy and two young men duly arrived at Sutton Cheney.

 

Father Icarus met the returning boys and explained that Mitchell was away on one of his rescue missions.

 

Ewart greeted the deputy headmaster, "Good evening, father. I hope you don't mind but we have taken it on ourselves to bring a boy back with us. He turned up at the house, on Saturday. It seems he is an old friend of the Hamilton boys and I can assure you, from what he has so honestly, and distressingly, told us, over the last few days, that he totally qualifies for membership of the brotherhood. His name is Cynebald."

 

"Hello, Cynebald, welcome to Seabrook, you are most welcome. Thank you, Ewart, I'll take Cynebald from here. Maybe you could see if you can find any of the Hamilton boys and ask them to come to Manley's office, please."

 

"Of course, father. Cynebald has this small bag of belongings, it seems so little for 14 years of life."

 

Father Icarus took the small bag and, with a loving, gentle arm lain around Cynebald's shoulders, took him upstairs.

 

Within minutes, a small gaggle of boys was waiting outside Manley's office, where Gabriel greeted them.

 

 

The group comprised Richard Hamilton with his husband Kelton Fenne, Thomas Hamilton with his husband Grayson Hulle, and four pairs of twins, Hamnet and Hamon Hamilton, John and Henry Hamilton, James and Anthony Hamilton, and Walter and Edward Hamilton.

 

"Thank you for coming so quickly, boys. Tattan and Ainsley have found an old friend of yours, it seems. He seems to be about the same age as Richard and Thomas, so I think if just one of you two go in first and identify him; I think he would feel more comfortable, that way."

 

Richard stepped forward, "That's a good idea, Gabriel."

 

"It's just Manley and Father Icarus, with the boy; go gently, won't you."

 

"Of course, Gabriel, I'm a Seabrook boy."

 

Richard went through the door and immediately smiled,

 

"Good evening father, Manley. Hello, Cynebald. What are you doing here?"

 

"It seems, I've been rescued."

 

Father Icarus interrupted the joyful reunion, "So, Richard, you can positively identify this boy?"

 

"I should say so, father. Cynebald, Thomas, and I once did a threesome for a really rich dude to watch. May the rest of the family and our partners, for those of us have one, come in now, please."

 

"Go through to the small meeting room, with Cynebald, and I'll send your family over."

 

"Gabriel, the Hamiltons and their partners may go through to the small meeting room, please."

 

Much tearful and joyful reunion ensued over the following hour, in the small meeting room.

 

 

 

Just under a month later, the party of five, 'escaping' from France, rode hard all the way to London, where they arrived on Thursday, 7th September, 1487. Mitchell decided that a couple of day's rest was now due, and so he took a few rooms at The Old Red Lion, Holborn.

 

The next morning, Mitchell visited William Caxton again, where he picked up the prints of The Philosophy of the Seabrook Brotherhood and bought a few more textbooks for the school.

 

Just as he was leaving the offices of William Caxton, his eyes were caught by the beauty of a 14-year-old boy, who just seemed to be hanging around; Mitchell knew the look of a rent boy.

 

"Hello there, lad, how's business?"

 

"A bit slow, I'm not looking my best today, I'm sorry."

 

"You look beautiful, son. How would you like to earn a sovereign?"

 

"A sovereign, sir, I'm yours."

 

Mitchell led the boy back to the inn and through the back stairs, so they wouldn't be seen.

 

Mitchell sat on the large bed; he then beckoned the boy to sit beside him, on his left side.

 

"What's your name, my wee beauty?"

 

"Albert, Albert Rousseau. My father was a French mercenary who was injured and came to live here in London; he didn't want to go back to France because he knew what he was going to do with me; he was going to make me a rent boy, a London rent boy."

 

"How has that been working out for you?"

 

"Well, sir, I've been doing it for a couple of years now; my 14th birthday was just two days ago, on September 5th. Unfortunately, trade has slackened off in the last few months, as I'm just that little bit older, and most of the men want an 11 or 12-year-old."

 

"Well, Albert, today's your lucky day. I just have a special thing for 14-year-old-boys, naked ones of course."

 

Mitchell, patting a spot on the bed said, "Step out of your shoes and lay down here on the bed."

 

"Yes, sir."

 

Albert, you're a good well-trained boy, but since I'm about to see you naked, I think you can call me Mitchell, please."

 

Albert, replied, with a smile on his face, "Of course, Mitchell, thank you."

 

Mitchell first undid the boy's doublet and then lifted the boy's shirt over his head, to reveal the top half of a one-piece underwear.

 

Mitchell leant down and kissed the boy on his forehead, eyes, cheeks and nose.

 

"You're a gorgeous boy, Albert.

 

Mitchell then pulled off Albert's breeches.

 

Just as Mitchell loved it; a 14-year-old-boy, ready for the final unwrapping, only Albert's socks and the one-piece remained.

 

Mitchell proceeded to gently stroke Albert all over his body, regularly cupping Albert's cock and balls, and also constantly kissing him.

 

After about ten minutes, Mitchell stopped his exploration, and said to Albert, "Often, I do like to give young lads like you a good spanking; there's something about you, though, that is just stopping me. You're just too beautiful, but I would like to see your true beauty, your naked body. Let me undress you and cuddle you naked."

 

"Anything, sir, my body is yours to do with as you wish. You can spank me if you want! I'm not unused to that, both from my father, when I didn't bring enough money home, and from many of my clients."

 

"Let's just start by me gently removing your socks and underwear."

 

Mitchell gently removed Albert's socks and his one-piece.

 

Mitchell was pleasantly surprised to find facing him a hairless little imp.

 

Mitchell, using a slightly surprised tone, says "Totally hairless, Albert, but I see evidence that you do grow them."

 

"My father has been shaving me down there every week since I was 12. He also douches me every morning after I've done a crap; he says that my pussy must be clean for my clients. Then he sends me out to earn money with my body. I've been servicing clients since my 12th birthday, when I was first shaved, douched and then spanked 12 times before being sent out to find a punter. That was until last week when he died, he was only 45. He got a tick bite, when we went walking in the countryside. He died in just over a week. Now I'm an orphan. As this is the only living, which I know of and, I no longer have my father to protect me, I'll have to link up with one of the other pimps, otherwise I might get killed, or worse."

 

"Do you want to stop this life and get a proper education? Yes, sir. What would you do for that opportunity? As I've said, anything, sir, my body is yours."

 

"That's a very nice answer lad and normally I might really go ahead and have my way with you very fully, but there's something about you, I don't know what it is, but, all I do know is, you're not meant for me. In fact, there's a young French boy, just a few years younger than you, whom I have just rescued, along with two English boys, from Chinon, who might be just right for you."

 

"Did you say Chinon, daddy?"

 

"Yes, Albert."

 

"That is where I was born, daddy. I lived there until three years ago. Who is this boy?"

 

"François, François Leroy."

 

"My old playmate!? How come he's with you?"

 

"Well, that's a long story, Albert, but it's clear that you are taken, so to say."

 

"Just let me gently stroke you for a while, and kiss you, but I think I'll leave it to François to help you further. Come here, sit on my lap."

 

Mitchell proceeded to give Albert some deep French kisses, whilst gently lowering him onto the bed, just as one should with a tired young boy. Within a few minutes, Albert was fast asleep.

 

Mitchell got dressed and went next door to François's room. François was napping and it was a simple task for Mitchell to lift him up and take him to Albert.

 

A few hours later, around dinner time, Albert woke up in a bed that he was only mildly familiar with; he was also very surprised to find another boy in that bed.

 

Albert, though, quickly remembered what Mitchell had told him and leant across to kiss the other boy on his cheek.

 

François half woke up and said, " Qu'est-ce que tu fais?" (What, what are you doing?)

 

"C'est moi, François, c'est Albert, ton vieux camarade de jeu." (It's me, François, it's Albert, your old playmate.)

 

"Albert, comment es-tu arrivé ici et dans ce lit. En y réfléchissant, comment suis-je arrivé ici?" (Albert, how did you get here, and in this bed. Come to think of it, how did I get here?)

 

"Eh bien, j'ai rencontré ce gentil homme Mitchell ce matin et il m'a amené ici. Je suis loueur depuis deux ans. Mon père était mon proxénète, puis il est mort la semaine dernière. Mitchell est venu me chercher ce matin. Il ressemblait à n'importe quel autre parieur, mais il est différent, pas comme les autres hommes, et puis, il m'a dit qu'il t'avait sauvé, puis je me suis endormi. Je me suis réveillé et vous étiez à côté de moi. Je suppose que Mitchell t'a amené ici. Je me souviens qu'il a fait la suggestion plutôt obscène de vous laisser le soin de m'aider davantage. Je pense qu'il a dû faire référence à ma bite raide, qui est encore très dure. Voulez-vous aider un vieux camarade de jeu? Voulez-vous aider un vieux camarade de jeu?" (Well, I met this nice man Mitchell this morning and he brought me here. I've been a rent boy for the last couple of years. My father was my pimp, and then he died last week. Mitchell picked me up this morning. He seemed like just any other punter, but he's different, not like any of the other men, and then, he told me he had rescued you, and then I went to sleep. I woke up and there you were beside me. I suppose Mitchell brought you in here. I do remember he made the rather lewd suggestion that he would leave it to you, to help me further. I think that he must have been referring to my stiff dick, which is still very hard. Will you help an old playmate out?")

 

" Bien sûr, Albert. Juste deux conditions, nous 69 et, tu deviens mon partenaire de vie. Mitchell m'a parlé de cette idée, lorsque nous étions en route ici. Je n'aurais jamais imaginé trouver quelqu'un si tôt." (Of course, Albert. Just two conditions, we 69 and, you become my life partner. Mitchell told me about this idea, when we were on our way here. I never imagined I would find someone so soon.)

 

" Tu veux que je t'épouse, François? Je ne pense pas que les garçons et les hommes puissent faire ça." (You want me to marry you, François? I don't think boys and men can do that.)

 

" J'ai pensé cela aussi mais, apparemment, nous avons été sauvés par une confrérie spéciale, où de tels mariages sont fermement encouragés et enregistrés; alors, que dites-vous, amant?" (I thought that way too but, apparently, we've been rescued by a special brotherhood, where such marriages are firmly encouraged, and recorded; so, what do you say, lover?)

 

" Oui, oui, oui, je ne peux penser à personne de mieux. Tu m'as manqué ces dernières années, et maintenant nous serons ensemble pour toujours!" (Yes, yes, yes, I can think of no-one better. I've missed you these past years, and now we'll be together for ever!)

 

The boys moved into the 69 position and helped each other out.

 

Mitchell felt that it would be a good idea to leave as early as possible in the morning, just in case some of those other pimps, or their scouts, were looking for Albert, so, just after an early breakfast, on Saturday, September 8, 1487, Mitchell paid the innkeeper, and also paid him extra, in order to secure his silence about Albert. They rode hard, and were back, at Sutton Cheney, by the early hours of Monday, September 10, 1487; they only stopped for a few hours rest in a field. Mitchell's sturdy cloaks, and all of them cuddling up close together, provided them sufficient warmth for about 6 hours of rest.

 

Either Manley, Maven or Barden and Hugh, had been keeping watch 24 hours a day, since Mitchell had left. The younger boys did the days together, while the older boys shared the evenings and nights. At what would have been about 2.00 in the morning, a few hours before lauds, Manley heard horse's hooves in the yard. He opened the door and was very pleased to see Mitchell and two English boys. Being used to how things worked with Mitchell, he was not surprised at the accompanying presence of a small French boy, a slightly older boy, who had the younger boy asleep in his encircling arms, and a French soldier.

 

"Manley, I know it's early, but I promised John that no minutes would be wasted. Go and quietly wake him up and bring him to the Great Hall."

 

John, accompanied by Manley, and another boy of his own age, Cynebald, arrived at the Great Hall, to see Mitchell standing on his own. John's head immediately slumped.

 

"John, what I promise, I achieve."

 

The big curtain was thrown back and two rather tired but very happy boys were revealed.

 

"Look up, John, don't hang your head. Come on, come up here on the stage, and bring your friend with you. Is this right, Manley? I also don't seem to recognise the boy with John."

 

 

"Cynebald turned up the day after you left; he was brought back by Tattan and Ainslie, after their senior boys' weekend in Derby. And, oh yes, Mitchell, it seems Cynebald has an uncanny gift of love. It only took two days, after he arrived, for John and Cynebald to approach me and ask if they might be permitted to share a bed. Maven and I discussed it and we said yes; we also spoke to Icarus and he agreed: we hope you'll support our decision."

 

"Manley, of course, I will. I think it's about time we change the structure of the Council of Coupling. From now on, it's you, Maven, Barden and Hugh."

 

Distracted by these formalities for a few seconds, the two most senior founding fathers had failed to notice four young men standing with their arms around each other, but fast asleep.

 

"Manley, fetch Maven, Hugh, Barden, John and Aldwin and let's set up that big bed again."

 

"Albert, François, Robert, you are about to take part in a Seabrook Brotherhood tradition. I'll explain in the morning; for now, just cuddle up with everybody else and go to sleep, or make love, whatever your choice may be."

 

Albert and François did not make love but they certainly French kissed before falling off to sleep.

 

To be continued

 

I hope you enjoyed my submission to Nifty. Thank you for reading it, suggestions for the next stages would be welcome. My thoughts are quite a lot of boy-boy sex and boy-man sex. Eventually, all the boys take wives or become life-partners, but Manley and Maven continue to enjoy fun with Mitchell. They also then have fun with their own offspring. The extended family becomes significant landholders in the Sutton Cheney area, and they take the Roundheads side in the Civil Wars of the 17th century. Further ideas will be developed, but please see the Mitchell Seabrooks file to see the long-term plan. The head of the Seabrook Brotherhood is always the eldest Mitchell Seabrook alive.

 

As requested, I'd love to hear from you with any comments, support, or constructive criticism. Thank you for your time, I appreciate it.

 

Now that the basic framework of this story is established, I wish to invite any readers, who care to, to write additional stories about any of the boys, teachers (ex-friars), farmhands (ex‑friars) and other supplementary characters. Within reason, writers are also encouraged to introduce new characters, such as, maybe, other local farmers, merchants, innkeepers, new teachers, other knights or soldiers. I am particularly interested in receiving submissions of back stories for the rent boys (20 of them – see Chapter 7) who, over the years, are met by Mitchell, and, because they are orphans, end up becoming scholars at SAB. Dates of encounter and birth are essential. I will still be the poster of such stories, though the author will be acknowledged. I reserve the right to decline publication and/or request edits of any submitted story. I will also spell and grammar check any submissions, and make any necessary corrections. Please send any such submissions t.

 

Remember to please keep the fantasies here on the pages of Nifty. What I am asking is to read about him, dream about him, fantasise about him, look at him, but don't put hands on him, if he is underage.

 

Finally, I don't want to be nasty, but while I hope you have been helped to get your rocks off, I also sincerely hope that, if you are truly and honestly on the same wavelength as me (see below), then you will have been, when you were reading some passages, and will, when reading many passages in future chapters, be crying. I certainly have been, so crying and weeping, at times, when I have been writing them. I have tried to reflect some of the realities of history, but I also regret that such disgusting, horrific and horrible occurrences did, and still often do, occur, especially during times of war, when lawlessness is often rampant.

 

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Many of the names used in this story series are generated by either:

 

The Medieval Names generator at https://www.fantasynamegenerators.com/medieval-names.php

which is maintained by FantasyNameGenerators.com.

 

OR

 

https://blog.reedsy.com/character-name-generator/medieval/old-english/

which is maintained by reedsy.com

 

If any readers are interested in receiving regularly updated copies of the Characters List for this series, the Seabrook Brotherhood Timeline and The Seabrook Brotherhood Register of Members and Couples please email me at MTHpsnym@gmail.com.

 

 

 

My mantra about man-boy and boy-boy love

 

Boys, and male youth, are tender little cherubs, to be fondled,

stroked, caressed, kissed, cuddled, loved and adored,

and made love to, but only if they are truly willing.
They are not there to just be simply fucked (in either end or both),

corporally punished, raped, abused, kidnapped, physically damaged
or, even, sometimes, killed!!!!!

 

UNDER-AGE CORPORAL PUNISHMENT, RAPE, SEXUAL VIOLENCE, ABDUCTION, KIDNAPPING AND INVOLUNTARY BDSM ARE NEVER ACCEPTABLE, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

To love for the sake of being loved is human, but to love for the sake of loving is angelic
(Alphonse de Lamartine 1790–1869 - French author, poet, and statesman).