splishing

Looking up from his balls, Sarah found her father’s penis. This time standing fully erect. It angled up and stood firmly just over his stomach, skin pulled taught as it was fully engorged. After all her attention to his balls it was no wonder it was ready for action. Remembering her sleeping log of a father, she listened again to his breathing, but found it just as steady as before. Guess the machine was working like a charm, or at least the pills were.

As for Galvin, we’re lucky that regeneration serum managed to fix his injuries. Even with the Wassengel, no one would support a blind, dickless eunuch for a king. But no serum could fix his shattered mind.” She looked down at the manacle on her arm, similar in design to the one Galvin used to control the Wassengel, and with a similar purpose. “Still, perhaps it wasn’t without its silver lining. My son was supposed to be my key to the throne, but the little cretin failed me at every turn. Now he’s finally useful to me, and all I had to do was take away his free will and turn him into a good little puppet. This was simply the excuse to do what had to be done. I can feel him fighting for control, feel his resentment, but it’s no matter. He will serve the purpose for his birth whether he likes it or not.”

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.