mocha cinnamoroll

Noah continued punching the bag in her place. “Since when has it ever been fair? When I was in Handent, I fought a Profane who forced me to fake my death in order to escape, and another captured me like a fly in a web. In Welindar, the battle was lost because I failed to kill Kaisen before he could transform. This is the struggle of fighting against the Profane, the struggle of being outclassed and overpowered. In this war, surviving with just a bruised ego is victory enough. You stood up to that monster, you fought, you survived.

I could hardly believe this was really about to happen! I was standing outside Mom and Daddy's room, completely naked and listening intently, squeezing my small, firm titties and slowly playing with my wet, bald little pink pussy as I imagined what was happening inside. Mom had only gotten back from Grandpa's place earlier that afternoon, and she was moaning happily in anticipation of what Daddy was about to do to her to make up for lost time. But I knew something she didn't know! I bit my lip, waiting, and soon enough Daddy was opening the door.

A solid kick to Viktor’s balls brought him to the ground, but Noah wouldn’t let him go that easily. Several hard stomps pulverized the man’s legs, and then he seized his broken right arm and continued snapping the bones, along with his fingers. One might think the audience, having cheered through gruesome violence for fight after fight, would be overjoyed by this display of brutality, but it was the opposite. They were dead silent, feeling their earlier excitement wither with every pained howl, and when Noah twisted Viktor’s left arm until his broken bones tore through his flesh, many turned away, unable to watch anymore.