"Where do you find roots?" You might try to find your father's people in--where is it?--Cleaver's Mills," he replied. "That's a start. Go from there."... nodded. That made a kind of sense. My father had died when I was 10, of what and how my mother never spoke. I learned over the years never to ask about him, for the pain it caused her. So I knew almost nothing about him, his life, his family, indeed nothing much about Cleaver's Mills on the Mist River.My stepfather assured me that he would be. The massive Man-b**st rose up in front of me. I didn’t know what he was going to do to me now, but I was to weak to do much about it.His jumpsuit was at his feet and he was naked except for white socks and wookboots.He had a huge giant barrel chest and belly and the biggest nipples I had ever seen.Like a shrunk down slice of bologna with a Vienna sausage in the middle.He was so big and hairy. Completely covered head to toe in the soft man-fur. Except for his crotch area, which was. More

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