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“Let me give you a ride, Jim. You don’t even need to change.” I said thanks and grabbed my stuff. I climbed into the passenger side. Mrs. B. was driving one of the massive cars of the day, a Delta 88 or something. She turned out of the school parking lot, turning away from the the way to my house. “I want to pick up something at my house first. Give you a chance to see where I live.”

She peeled herself off her father’s leg, her panties practically glued to the hairs on his leg and pulled the sheet back up and over him, taking one last look at his steadily deflating cock and balls, both shining in the moonlight from her efforts. Then, taking care not to swallow or choke on her mouthful, she tiptoed out of the room, grabbing her phone from her nightstand and into the bathroom where she flicked on the lights.

Should he do it? Just forfeit the match? To admit before the crowd that their prince was too weak to fight back? After everything that had happened to him, he had no pride left, nothing to lose. Maybe it was better to accept his failure and resign himself to his shame. Lying on the ground, he raised his arm, about to surrender, but stopped, thinking back to a conversation he had with Tarnas. It was during the year of training, the two of them sitting around the campfire on an autumn night. Seraph was staring deep into the flames, into the light and warmth, but all he felt inside was cold darkness.