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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.

“Ah fuck yeah! Fuck yeah!” I slammed my cock harder into her ass, lubricated by a hefty load of sperm. “Carol…my God.” My cock began to retreat from Carol’s stretched asshole as the last of my cum spewed into her ass. I released her and stepped back as gobs of cum oozed from her asshole and spattered onto the carpeted floor. Holding her skirt out of the way, she retrieved the shirt off the bench, stuck it in her ass crack and sat down. She looked at me sternly.

“You’ll thank me,” she said as she stepped out of the shower, returning with garden variety paper scissors and a disposable razor. She snipped my pubes close with the scissors, not even taking a minute. Then she got a big handful of soapy suds and coated my cock and balls. In just a couple of minutes rinsed me with a handheld sprayer, revealing a totally bald, and, I must say, a more impressive looking penis.