identity v hastur

Something was wrong. I struggled to open my eyes, blearily forcing myself to focus. I was in a red-panelled room, dimly lit, one I'd never been in before, with... things, on the walls. Whips, floggers, toys of all descr*ptions, most of which I couldn't even name. It was only then that I realized I was naked, bound on my back to a table with my legs spread into a slight V in the air, wrists above my head, a belt around my waist holding me down. I lifted my head, and saw that my six-inch dick was hard and straining, twitching without my command. Why the fuck was I hard? Arousal was the last thing I was feeling! Confusion, fear, panic, yes. But not arousal.

As the fateful duel erupted, Noah paced around them, undetectable to everyone. The skills and techniques they displayed were impressive, particularly how they incorporated their magic, but while he took the time to appreciate, he also stayed focused on his goal. He had to make Falco lose the fight, but do so in a way that wouldn’t draw suspicions. He couldn’t use his guns, or any of his illusion spells while he was concealed, but he had other ways of sabotaging him.

“I’m offering to bankroll your war against the Profane in exchange for enchanted silverware. I saw the extra dormitories being built at the academy, and the training camps for common soldiers outside the city. Such an overhaul of the knighthood and military doesn’t come cheap, and Uther has suffered some costly tragedies these last few years.”