fyodor dostoevsky bsd

He was then silenced as Thera wrapped her whips around his head and formed a liquid sphere, not to hold or wound him, but to drown him. Cain clawed at the bubble but was unable to break it. Realizing his only option, he sprinted towards Thera. She dodged and ducked away from his grabbing hands, relying on her agility, but Cain was more dexterous than he looked. He finally managed to grab one of her arms and then her leg and hoisted her high above his head. Mana surged from the tip of his horn, popping the bubble and letting his furious roar echo across the arena, telling the audience that this fight would end just like the others.

“Yeah maybe.” My spent cock slid out of Carol’s ass with a wet pop, followed by a creamy gush of my cum. I flopped onto the sofa. Carol plopped down beside me, an instant wet spot started oozing onto the leather cushion. “Should I get a towel or something? That’s quite the mess.”“I’ll lick it up before I go to bed. Or not. Don’t care. I’ll flip the cushion before my husband gets home.”“You never did that before?” I asked.

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.