red dog scp

A few hours later, Sarah once again slipped into her father’s room. She only felt slightly guilty doing so, after all he said that was basically the same as giving consent, right? As the night before he was softly snoring under the machine attached to his face and was laid out flat on his back. She crept around to the side of the bed and stared at him. It was just a light white sheet spread out over her dad’s naked body. In the moonlight she could out the outline of his body easily. Though right now all she could focus on was his dick. She could see the lump right there, a small round bump right below his belly. She bit her lip apprehensively.

He was then silenced as Thera wrapped her whips around his head and formed a liquid sphere, not to hold or wound him, but to drown him. Cain clawed at the bubble but was unable to break it. Realizing his only option, he sprinted towards Thera. She dodged and ducked away from his grabbing hands, relying on her agility, but Cain was more dexterous than he looked. He finally managed to grab one of her arms and then her leg and hoisted her high above his head. Mana surged from the tip of his horn, popping the bubble and letting his furious roar echo across the arena, telling the audience that this fight would end just like the others.

He pushed against the seal, using his mana to separate from his clone, but it was like he was buried in concrete. He couldn’t project his mana even a centimeter beyond his skin. It was even more difficult than performing his workout, but this was precisely what he wanted. Saimallah said that he and his fellow monks used these headbands to train their projection abilities, and there was no better way than this. As he struggled and strained, the seal began to give, ever so slightly, feeling less like concrete and more like rubber.