Home Artists Posts Import Register
S

Content

Loid grabbed parts of the clothes. The feeling of the fabric doing little to please him. It nipped and ran over his smaller digits as if they are sandpaper. Every inch of his clothes attacked his arms and made him twitch.

It was as if he had slipped an old raggedy coat covered in sand. No matter how hard he tried to adjust his clothing, the feeling only worsened. Even his underwear gave him no relief. It was as if someone had slipped itching powder into the with how little relief he got.

Loid said. “Why did I put these on? They scratch my body so much. And they’re so bad looking.”

Every time he tried to think of an excuse as to why he was dressed like this it failed miserably. No matter what angle he tried to think of that would explain this it fell short. Even if they allowed him to blend in without any issue, it wouldn’t matter if he couldn’t stand or operate at the best possible results with how they were attacking his frame.

“Once I’m home I’m going to have to change out of these damn clothes. They are way too formal for me, and we were just going out and having some fun.”

In the shop, Mikhail breathed out as he examined the situation with his mental powers. “There we go, everything's coming together. Maybe we can have her change clothes hear or something.”