I won’t bore you with the details o

I won’t bore you with the details of every buck perused that evening, or of the rambling procedures and contours of the strange indoor market that filled the space of what passed for a semi-derelict warehouse. Suffice to say, it was a veritable wonderland of merchandise on display, not one buck inferior or flawed in any way; MOSLA was top notch and rigorously maintained its standards. Still, all of that being said, there was one- alone in an austere stall, both brightly yet subtly lit for maximum effect- that put all of the others immediately out of mind. I entered the room, took a deep breath and stood mesmerized for several moments, utterly in awe at the helpless male on display before me. It is what transpired after crossing the threshold of that very special place (the recent memory has my hands shaking, even now as I write these lines) that forms the substance of this story.