”“Surely he won’t. He’s a slave,” I responded.“With a cock like his, everyone is his slave. You’ll see.”We watched as Demonde lifted T...on and draped him, belly down, in the bowl of a split trunk tree, with the boy’s torso hanging down on the other side and his legs on the side we could see. His buttocks jutted out at the fork of the tree. I took my breath in when I saw Demonde part the boy’s cheeks with his hands. The hole was cavernous. Demonde had already reamed it to his needs. The smallness. Unlike when in my apartment he did not apply a wigbut styled his shoulder length strawberry blonde hair to one side and putwhat appeared to be a flower type of hair clip to the side.Next came a pair of black high heel patent shoes with a ribbon below thetoe, and then the most beautiful black sheer gown flowed over his head.As it was put over his body I could see that it fell just above the kneewith a soft pleat. Above the skirt line was black sheer nylon whichclearly exposed the dainty belly. More

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