fate medusa

Noah started with one finger, sending his mana surging through the muscle fibers, and soon could lift it. He could still feel the headband trying to restrict him, but now he could push back. He did the same to his other fingers, soon gaining full control of his hand. The effort required was considerable, but this manner of controlling his mana was not dissimilar to how he could control his clone. Rather than something he would wear like a disguise, he simply had to think of his clone as something that existed within him, under his skin.

Something was wrong. I struggled to open my eyes, blearily forcing myself to focus. I was in a red-panelled room, dimly lit, one I'd never been in before, with... things, on the walls. Whips, floggers, toys of all descr*ptions, most of which I couldn't even name. It was only then that I realized I was naked, bound on my back to a table with my legs spread into a slight V in the air, wrists above my head, a belt around my waist holding me down. I lifted my head, and saw that my six-inch dick was hard and straining, twitching without my command. Why the fuck was I hard? Arousal was the last thing I was feeling! Confusion, fear, panic, yes. But not arousal.

“If God was angry at you, do you not think him capable of clearly telling you? You say you have dirtied your soul in the eyes of God, but that is because you feel that way, not because God appeared and told you. There are two errors that people make regarding their faith. The first is believing that they understand God, that God shares their values and thinks like they do. To think that you can know what God feels, wants, believes, and demands is the ultimate hubris, surpassed only by declaring yourself God.