left for dead zoey

“Right here.” Carol knelt on the sofa, elbows on the back of the cushion. She bent lower, pushing her ass towards me. “Keep the oil in reach in case we need more.” If she was worried about oil stains on her leather couch, she didn’t show it. She laid her head on the back of the sofa and spread her ass with both hands. Her asshole, now pink from the stretching, was beautiful. “Fuck me.” I stepped up behind her, cock in hand and laid the head against her anus. I started to push. Her asshole was tight, but began to spread against the pressure.

He extended his control throughout his body, first adjusting his position in his chair, then, while pouring sweat, he lifted himself up and got to his feet. Just standing up straight and remaining upright was a challenge. Back when he first unlocked his clone ability, he remembered having to reacquaint himself with every muscle required for standing and balance, and those first few steps were like all the times he learned to walk as a baby. All that experience was invaluable. Soon enough, he was circling the room, tweaking the awkwardness out of his movements.

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.