VICAR ALFRED: The Vicar of St. Dunstan’s. As the story begins, he’s thirty five years old, around 6’1′, 185 pounds with dark brown hair and bl...e eyes. He’s from a ranch near Hays, Kansas, and ordained for the Episcopal Diocese of Topeka where he served in parishes as an associate pastor. Five years before the story begins, he came to England for graduate study in theology, and managed to stay. He studied music before theology, and has a great love for High Church Anglican worship. Runs and. I am not sure what they put in it, or how they make it. They call it Fufi and it is strong.”“I better not. I need all my senses.”He seemed to agree and retracted the offered glass. His face was thoughtful, and then he said.“I have no doubt this Har-Hi is your friend and from the sound of it he grew into adulthood, away from his tribe.“He sighed, but the Tar of the Hi tribe was less than forthcoming to you and perhaps kept his declared Vanth-Ka in the dark.Being the Tar is more important than. .. yep, naked.His hand started exploring my skin, so slowly, so gently. He still felt uncertain with me, that I wasn't his to have, yet. I touched his hip as well, but quickly moved down to my target, and I wrapped my hand around him.... already rock hard. He gasped as I began to stroke it, slowly. I was reminded of a time when I was very young, stroking what, at the time, seemed very big in my small hand. It was a good, warm memory.He became a little more bold, at that, and he moved. " "I guest I can leave you like your dad in the studio adandon alnight, or take you to the woods and leave your sorry cunt ass. Have bobby come in the studio and torture your ass too like he does his own mother." he grinned a sadist smile,whipping my ass and stomach. He knew my phobia of being left alone, I cried "No Sir no, please I'll give Bobby a blow-job." He Petted me on my head, "Good Bitch." He hugged me telling me that was going to be a good bitch, that things were going to.