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“Nuh uh!” I giggled, then gasped myself as Daddy quickly crawled up into place behind me, one hand on my hip and the other holding his thick, amazing cock, and pushed himself inside!

“Don’t be sorry. He is a huge dick, and not in a good way. He also has enough money to pay for our house and generous child support, so I am good.” We pulled into her driveway. A modest split-level home in a nice neighborhood. Good place for kids to play. Mrs. B hit the button on the garage door opener and closed it behind us before I could get out of the car. “Nosy neighbors,” she said to no one in particular.

Maybe you and I do deserve to suffer for our wrongdoing. If that’s so, then it means that when things get painful, when things get difficult, we don’t have the luxury of quitting. We don’t get to end our lives to escape what we did. Whatever form the pain takes, we bear it, we endure it, we welcome it, all while we try to make this world a place where people like us, like how we used to be, have no place, and the people who would be hurt can instead live in peace. The next time you encounter an obstacle you cannot overcome, when you just want to curl up into a ball and quit on the world, remind yourself that you don’t deserve the peace of surrender. You have to keep working, to keep fighting, to keep suffering, until the day when you’ve fully repented.