"So," Sid begins, and then has to clear his throat. "Last night. We kind of—did a thing."

Jonny doesn’t want to be here, doesn’t want to be doing this, but there’s a contract, there are rules, and he’s got as little of a choice as Patrick does.

Dylan and Mitch try to settle an argument about who gives the better hand job using Connor's dick.

"Hey, so," Tyler says when the marks on his ass have faded to a gross yellow-green. "Next time, you wanna make out first?"

The Flyers always have a way of making Kris lose control. Kris has been Sid's sub for years now, and he's seen it happen time and again. A night like tonight calls for some creativity in punishment.

70 days. If they do their job well, that's how long the Maple Leafs will be in the bubble for; far too long to neglect dynamic interactions. Hell, Mitch starts feeling antsy after a week if he doesn't have someone kneeling for him. The NHL hopes to bring in professionals, but until they can get approved, the Leafs are going to need to turn to teammates for their dynamic needs. This could go wrong in a hundred different ways. But then Mitch sees who he got paired with, sees their shared kinks - feminization - and thinks, maybe it could also go very, very right.

Nate looks away, shifting his weight between his feet. “Uh, it’s a contract,” he says. EJ stares at him for a moment. “I didn’t know you were seeing someone,” he blurts out once he’s done staring because that’s the only reasonable explanation for this. Nate looks up at him, confused and weirded out at the same time. “I’m not,” he says. “It’s for you,” he adds. In which the NHL requires subs over the age of 31 to be collared, and EJ finds himself in a tough spot.

Bro hugs are one thing, but Brent never imagined a day where he'd be gearing up to ask Jonathan Toews whether he's interested in a relaxing evening with Brent and his extensive collection of floggers.

Sid draws the short straw after the loss.