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He reached into his inner self, feeling his energy circulating through his system, and began upping the intensity. By increasing one’s energy flow like this, a magic user could gather their strength for a spell quicker and easier. The problem was that doing it wasted energy and resulted in fatigue. Before a race, a sprinter might hop up and down or jog in place to get their blood flowing faster, allowing them to reach their peak earlier, but if they did it too much, they might find themselves out of breath when they needed it.

The ref raised his arm. “Welcome to the fifth round of the tournament! We start with our remaining winged combatants, Roc and Ingram!” As the audience cheered in anticipation, the two foes glared each other down. Normally, Roc would enter the ring with a stoic scowl, sharpening his mind for battle while spitefully feeding on the boos from beastman haters, but this time, he was smiling.

She finished sucking on the other nut, letting the ball drop back into place gently guiding it with her tongue. Sarah leaned back down and sucked the excess drool about to drip off the bottom of his sack. She stared down at his balls, glistening with her saliva in the moonlight like a freshly polished car. Well, she thought, she had given them a good wash. She had only meant to give them a quick taste, but she’d done everything she secretly wanted to do when she was tossing and turning in her bed last night. Well… almost everything.