At last, after half-an-hour of his dad’s departure, he came. “Kanna! Where did you go?” with anxiety I asked. “I couldn’t control the tensi...n. Mom. I went to practice, but could not practice.”His face is tired. I took him in my arms. “My poor boy why tension?” I ran my palm on his back. “Come have breakfast.”“I am thirsty, mom,” he said looking at boobs. “Silly boy, that thirst can be fulfilled. But have breakfast first. You need energy for your batting. Today I prepared your favorite. I drop the whip preferring to use my hand on her, I put one hand on her pussy, sliding my middle finger inside of her, and bring the other onto her ass cheek with a SMACK. She thrusts forward grinding into my hand as I smack her. Again I smack her, this time on the other cheek, and again she moans and grinds into my hand. I smack her for a third time, and I feel her pussy clench against my finger as I can feel her nearing an orgasm, so I quickly remove my finger. She says “no” with. He mind was still dazed but he knew something was not right...itwas on the tip of his tongue more than ever before. He blankly rubbed his pretty painted hands along his pantyhose clad legwhen something struck him. The material he was feeling with his handswas unusual for him. He looked down at his shaven legs which wereencased in shiny nylon. "There's something not right about that," hethought. He looked at his panties, which were a pair of very lacy boy shorts. Hewracked his brain trying to. He refused to name the women because they were unworthy. Harlots and sluts all of them.The Wall was another of Roy’s proud accomplishments, with a huge range of any and all sexual toys imagined, some of which he had created himself. Each toy had its own specific hanging place and was grouped accordingly. The first woman was a skinny blonde. Almost flat-chested with her ribs and hip bones sticking out. She had chosen the suction – cups. Two cups for the breasts and one smaller one that would.