Bluey Scrub Cap Novels & Stories

I shrugged and turned on the water, thankful that I was in the Alpha house where the heaters warmed up the water immediately. I sighed as the water came in contact with my skin. I grabbed Bath & Body Works shower gels and spread it over my newly shaved legs, making them as soft as a baby's bottom. I luckily found Coconut Oil, which I put in my hair that removed any bad hairs and softened the rest, ridding them of dandruff and bad oils. I sighed, letting myself sink peacefully into the water, lounging for a moment before I rinsed it out, then finishing up with my body soap.

Feeling giddy, Mikayla put on the bracelet and did a little spin for the guests. Cory let out a whistle. “Ben, this must have cost you a pretty penny.” Ben grinned. “All that matters is that Mikayla loves it.” Turning around, Ben walked toward me. He held a smaller carton and passed it to me. “This one’s for you, Kaycee.” I set my drink down and took the box. The packaging was very basic, without even a seal sticker. I peeked inside and found a generic blind-box plushie. It was from an old series that had been popular two years back.

Then he walked up, took the sponge from her hand, and started scrubbing. The red bled into pink, but it didn’t disappear. --- 8 That night, Blue texted me a single word: Enough. The next morning, I found out what he meant. --- 9 He was waiting by my locker, holding a poster tube. “Come with me.” We walked past classrooms, past the library, to the wide stretch of wall outside the auditorium — the one students used for club ads and event flyers. Blue pulled out the rolled canvas and handed me thumbtacks.

Lilith had twice as big breasts, much to her horror, from being a B cup to a straight-up double D cup with solid and long legs and a pert bum. Her skin was perfectly smooth and unblemished. Not a freckle or scar marred the ivory flesh, which was new. Every scar she'd thought out her life. When she'd gone to sleep, the night before was gone…all of them bar one, the scar above her heart, and there'd been quite a few of them too due to her life being a werewolf and training. But now, with them all gone, with all of the other changes, she was beautiful, and that wasn't a word she would have ever picked to refer to herself before.

“Hey! Give me some. My buddy’s itching already.” “You’re a disturbance. I’m about to finish,” Grey grumbled. “Let me go first. Hand me your bag,” Blue demanded. Grey scratched his head, stood up, and handed over his bag, which had a small bottle of lube disguised in an alcohol container to avoid suspicion from guards. Blue took some lube and applied it to his palm. He started stroking himself, moving his hand up and down his erection. After a few minutes, he climaxed. He washed himself, then stepped out of the cubicle.

A bath was tempting; he craved the cleansing comfort it promised, but he doubted Xcott’s patience extended that far. Exploring the counter, Leroy discovered a drawer containing a comb and an unusual-looking toothbrush. With no sign of toothpaste, he gave the device a tentative try and was delighted when a herbal-tasting foam formed as he brushed. Another drawer revealed a lotion-like substance, which he gently smoothed over his skin, taking care to avoid the most tender bruises. Finally, wrapping a towel securely around himself, Leroy made his way back to the main room. At the threshold, he paused, taking in the space with fresh eyes.

hoping to see my mother for some last-minute counsel. Rather, my childhood friend Clara crept in. Her face was pallid, and something that made my stomach turn had taken the place of her normally happy look. "Ivy," she wrung her hands and whispered. "There are rumors... whispers among the pack..." "What rumors?" My voice was sharper than I meant when I asked. Unease pricked at the back of my neck. Clara refused to look at me. "They claim that there is another person. Another blue-haired girl who says—"

It was clear that something wasn't quite right; she had been infected by the dreaded blue blade disease which caused violent outbursts and aggression towards those near her. The women worked carefully but quickly, pouring buckets of warm water over the maiden's body and scrubbing at it with a soft cloth. They spoke in hushed tones as they worked, trying to soothe her despite her struggles against their grip. One of the maids ran a wet brush through the girl’s hair, gently massaging shampoo into it before rinsing it out. Another one applied a thick paste made from ground herbs onto every inch of exposed skin, rubbing it in until there was no trace left behind.