Thou Shall Not: A Dark Ten Commandments Anthology
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Cain finishes cutting away my shirt and tosses it aside. He trails the knife slowly down my chest, pressing just hard enough for pain to radiate through me. I hiss at the first cut, but when he repeats the movement a second time, slicing even deeper, I can’t fight the moan that escapes my lips.
Pain is my weakness. Not in the same way as with most. I crave the feeling. Crave the stinging, torturous throbbing the slice of a knife can bring; or the pounding, achy bruised stiffness after a brutal fistfight. It always gets me hard.
“You like that, Samson? There’s more where that came from. All you have to do is give in. Let the pain consume you and I’ll give you what you want.”
The soldier, Cain, stands in front of me, but it’s Atlas’ voice I hear.
I fight the need to ask him for more and just watch him. He brings the knife up to his mouth, his tongue swiping out to taste my blood. He gives a satisfied groan as he licks the blade clean. After he finishes his taste test, he moves around behind me and uses the blade to remove my trousers the same way he did my shirt. Completely naked, I can feel his body heat burning me from his position at my back. He’s so close; we’re practically touching.
Cain leans forward, pressing the knife’s blade into the bottom of my spine just above my ass crack. He whispers into my ear, “Just give in, Samson. No one will have to know. I won’t tell. It’ll be our secret.”
He drags the blade down my crack until the tip is at my hole. The thought of the pain he could cause if he was to push forward clouds my mind. “Yes, please,” I beg him.
“As you wish.” He answers my pleading by inserting the blade inside me swift and rough. The searing pain and warmth from my blood oozing out detonates my senses. I’m almost past the point of no return. If I fall over the line I’ll lose the chance to win this challenge, and I’m not sure which I want more. This pleasure and pain, or to rule with immortality and powers of a God.
“Oh, Samson, your response pleases me very much.”
Cain rips the blade from me and just as he promised, I scream his name.
Chapter Four
Celeste
Leave it to my twin brother to take these trials to another level, but blade-raping some dude’s ass? I honestly have no words. I mean, I guess I could think of something, but that would require me to actually try, and quite frankly, I just don’t want to.
The challenge was Gluttony, and Cain has already failed. His overindulgence is power, and his little gimp’s is obviously pain.
Weirdos.
What’s my weakness you ask?
Well, that would be my brother. The way he commands a room and the way he withholds mercy. It sends chills down my spine and makes my lady bits tingle. Cain is my whole world: my twin, my opposite, my lover, my master, and my only weakness, but only because I don’t bother trying to have any others. Weakness and fear take more effort than I’m willing to expend.
I sit on the floor, crossed-legged, with my back against the stone wall. I pick at the fringe of my cut off shorts as I diligently try to stamp down any jealousy over someone else getting to have my brother’s hands on them.
The moment I’m positive they’re completely lost in the situation, I sneak back out of the room, and run smack dab into the middle of a hard chest. Thick hands grab my hips to steady me, then push back so we now face each other eye to eye.
“Evening, Atlas. Fancy running into you down here.” I flash him a seductive smirk, which he returns with a sexy smoulder of his own.
“Celeste,” he grunts.
His eyes rake down my body, taking in every inch of exposed skin. I’m only wearing a heather gray sports bra and frayed cut-off jean shorts. My feet are bare and my hair falls down my back in loose, wild curls. I can tell he likes what he sees. I love the way he drinks me in.
Please let the next challenge be Lust, the things I’d let this godly man do to me...
If Cain gets to play with others, then so do I.
Atlas clears his throat. “It appears you’ve passed the test of Gluttony. Shall we move onto the next trial?”
My core dampens with anticipation.
“Yes please,” I reply in a breathy tone.
Atlas smirks. I smirk back.
“The next trial is Sloth,” he says with humor dancing in his eyes.
He knows exactly what is on my mind. I falter slightly, a little disappointed we won’t be getting naked anytime soon, but there’s always later, and if not Atlas, then there’s always Cain.
“What would you like me to do, Master?”
A devilish smile stretches across his face. He beckons me to follow him, so I do. Leading me a few feet down the hall, he stops at a door, pulls it open, and walks in without even bothering to glance back in my direction. He doesn’t have to, I know what he wants me to do. I close the door behind us, then lean against the smooth wood to await my next order.
Atlas walks over to a red upholstered bench, and stops, finally turning back around to face me. His face is hooded in lust and seriousness. He could get me off just by looking at me. I hold my breath, trying to contain my excitement. He points to the ground.
“Crawl,” he orders without removing his eyes from mine.
I drop without hesitation and begin to crawl toward my master. I take my time, stretching this moment out until the electricity in the air is almost stifling. When I reach his godly feet, I drop my head down and place a gentle kisses atop them. I waste no effort showing him he owns me in this situation.
“Stand up,” he commands, “Remove your clothes, then bend over this bench.”
I quickly and silently follow his orders. He walks up behind me, running his rough fingers down my back, until he has both globes of my ass gripped firmly in his hands.
He leans over me, close enough so his lips brush the shell of my ear. “You will take everything I have to give, without uttering a single sound. If you’re diligent and I’m pleased by the end, you will pass this trial. How does that sound, Celeste?”
I nod, agreeing without uttering a single word. I can feel his lips curve into a smile against my ear. He pulls himself back up and kicks my legs apart, before squeezing my ass cheeks tighter, eliciting a pain that causes arousal to drip down my thighs. I hold back a moan, waiting eagerly for whatever comes next.
“Good girl. Keep it up, and I may even let you cum with me.”
Challenge accepted.
My laid back, somewhat lazy nature no longer exists in this moment. I plan to fully and diligently let Atlas fuck the shit out of me. Riding Atlas all the way into the next trial, would be an absolute dream come true.
Chapter Five
Dair
I wait as he goes through all the sins, as the list of men and women gets shorter with each they partake in. They’re not virtuous, they’re immoral and ungodly.
So far weeks have passed, people are losing their sanity, and I’m on the cusp of winning it all.
I can do this.
They can’t stop me.
While the battles continue, I notice how we must become something more, something else to overcome, someone else entirely. It’s as if a piece of us dies with each challenge, trying to prove there’s no other God but us. No other to overpower our loyalty and law above others. No one to contest our duty and faith to rule. No other to have any other God before us.
I stalk off to get a breather, one to solidify my ground in this event, to make sure I win. As I meander through the halls, voices sound out, mixing with moans, growls, and cries. A whimper louder than the rest has me following it. My gut tells me to go in the opposite direction, there’s no doubt it’s my test, my livelihood on the line, but I can’t stop my feet from moving.
The groans of a man and the sweet whimpers of a woman sluice through my blood as the door comes closer to view. The fire licking the walls, giving me guidance to the room isn’t enough to quench my nerves, but the salacious sounds reverberating through the door into my ears ease the niggle of anxiety.
“More,” a woman pra
ctically begs, her voice tinny and husky from exertion. Instead of knocking, I allow the curiosity in my blood to urge me through. Inside my eyes immediately land on a man and a woman and onlookers touching themselves in response. My cock hardens in my pants, making them uncomfortably tight.
The man rises from the woman. Atlas. His darkened eyes and the mischievous lilt to his mouth have me wavering, but only for a moment. I can’t resist ogling his body, the chest full of hair, the muscles adorning him like a battle ground, and the wide set of his shoulders demanding silence and respect. His gaze smolders as my view travels lower, unable to help myself taking in the thick girth of his cock, the piercing glinting at the tip, and the wetness left behind. I lick my lips unabashedly, knowing it’s not only women that satisfy the untamed absence inside me. He’ll do.
My body stiffens with thirst, not the kind that can be quenched with bloodshed, water, or any sustenance other than unhinged fucking. It’s depraved and deep rooted, making my fingertips burn with the urge to reach for him and grip his length until he bends to my will.
Will he kneel?
Will he cry?
Will he beg?
The voyeurs groan in desperation at our stare down, hating me for stopping the show, knowing they won’t get their fill until we are done battling with our stares alone, and complaining continuously that their lust was impeded by my intrusion.
Cutting the air with his hand and calling for silence, Atlas scans me. A devilish smirk rests on his lips, making him appear more nefarious than he initially led on. He breaks out in a full smile when all that’s heard now is the deep breathing from the woman spread wide on the table and worried whispers of the needy patrons waiting to feast upon more. He’s proven his magic, his power, and his desire to dictate us all, now it’s our turn to prove we’re worthy.
“To pass this round, you have to resist the urge to indulge in lustful relations.”
My soul aches.
My heart deflates.
My body hums.
Fuck.
I raise my head, knowing my largest vice in life is succumbing to pleasure. Whether of the body, the mind, or soul. In this case, I’m sure it’s all three. Lust breathes within me. In my every inhale and exhale, every taste, and every touch. It thrives and hums and ebbs away at my virtues day after day. And tonight it might just win.
No. I’m stronger than my transgressions—more powerful than my weaknesses—smarter than the whims that hold me hostage.
Already in a haze of needing to give into my hunger, I brave myself for the challenge. Heart hammering in my chest, my head raises confidently, welcoming the next course. The man watches me warily, as if I’ve been here before, as if I’ve done this already. As if I’ve lost my soul and have had a rebirth, trying to repeat the action as a pendulum on a clock does.
“I accept,” I boom, my voice carrying over the entire room. His eyes narrow a bit before he raises a hand, “your name, peasant?”
“Dair.”
“Ah, Dair. What a wealthy name for such a lesser man,” he jests, his chest rising.
“I’m ready,” I respond, instead of filling his pride with more ammo.
He steps towards me, his calloused hands trailing my throat gently. Almost too gently. His fingers squeeze my trachea, blood rushes south, forcing me to feel rock solid. A triumphant grin crosses his face, but I’m not so easily swayed. I’m not the submissive in this. This only gets my cock so far.
The woman that was splayed on the table sidles up to me, her gaze snakes over my skin, slithering over the battered shirt and tented pants like they’re her next entree. She sidesteps Atlas, successfully putting herself between him and my throat. Her hands rip open my already tattered shirt, she licks Atlas’s palm on my neck and then the veins bulging on me as well.
I hiss when she grips me inside my pants, the softness of her flesh against the hard hotness of mine has me dizzy. But this is my test, this is my chance to win, my chance to have all the endeavors—lust and all—by being strong just this once.
Then it’s not just her hands. It’s all of them. They strip me bare, clawing at my skin, leaving blood and marks in their passion. My skin flames with each passing second, my cock is weeping for release, challenged to its end.
“Dair, you seem ready to give in,” Atlas purrs, massaging me with his thumb. “Tell me, boy. Have you ever been fucked before?”
My eyes widen a smidge before I reign in the surprise. He seems satisfied with the expression. Atlas’s hand releases my neck, allowing regular airflow and the lightheadedness to recede, but not before he’s moving behind me.
I hear him spit in his palm, his hand making a familiar noise as he jacks himself off. My body thrums at the implications of his actions, knowing I’m about to be fucked for the first time. He wants me to moan, to beg, and indefinitely lose this battle.
He’ll lose.
“Your ass is mine,” he growls before plowing in. My body’s initial shock has me bowing over. The pain is instant but the intense need to cum is stronger. My body shakes with desire, knowing if someone doesn’t rub me off I’ll die right here.
He pumps into me, his piercing hitting that spot inside that makes any man fall to his knees, but he holds me centered while he fills me with himself.
The woman stares at me with lust, mirroring my emotions almost exactly. My stomach clenches as she grips my length tightly. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“It’s okay,” she croons, digging her nails into the sensitive flesh, drawing blood. “I’ll help you.” Her giggle tickles my senses before she falls to her knees and engulfs me entirely.
“Oh, fuck,” I grunt, unable to stop the quickness of my breath and rise of my chest along with it. She takes me in long slurps, gliding her tongue over the top, between the slit of my tip, and down to my balls. She squeezes them too, forcing me to cry out.
I’m losing this battle.
I’m giving into my vice.
There’s no virtue here, not anymore.
I roar as the others bite my flesh. When they scratch and drag their teeth down my chest, back, and ass, I’m nearly done for. It isn’t until Atlas releases in me with a grunt that I’m almost gone. The lightness to my head, the overwhelming sense of euphoria at my fingertips is too much.
He kneels behind me, his tongue finding the dimples above my ass, he traces small swirls, licking sensuously as he trails lower. His hands spread my cheeks, gripping tight in a way that has me desperate for something—something sinister and vile and wanton—him, all of him. When his tongue spears my hole I moan again, realizing I’m as much a submissive as a dominant. This man made me a switch in the span of minutes. He laps at his cum seeping out of me and I let out a guttural groan from the overstimulation of him and her and her and her and her. There’s too many of them, too many sensations, and when she takes me down her throat, I explode.
Atlas continues his assault on my hole, moaning along with me. My stomach clenches with the desire and lust swarming through it. When he’s had his taste—his fix—his indulgence of me, he stands.
“Doesn’t look like you have control of your virtues and vices.”
Then he kisses me, my eyes blocked as the candlelit room is entirely dimmed, and he takes my body again and again, purifying me of all my sins, stripping me bare for them all to see.
And I cave.
Again.
Again.
And again.
My body is his to use.
My lust is his to consume.
My mind is his to control.
There’s no God here.
Chapter Six
Enoch
I was able to abstain from the mass of bodies in front of me; all of them writhing around with one another, like animals in heat. Disgusting, if you ask me. I wouldn’t be caught dead engaging in that kind of lecherous behavior. I have too much self-respect for that. The only reason I’m here is to find out what the next challenge will be. Then, I will face it head on and come out on top, as usual.
I am the future of this city.
As soon as the group breaks up, I feel someone’s eyes on me. I look around the room and find Atlas boring holes into me. I can feel my skin prickle beneath his stare.
My drive and dedication must mirror his own. It calls to him; he's drawn to me. He knows I exist.
That’s silly, of course he does. I'm the head of one of the most affluent households in the city. Especially since Josiah met his untimely demise.
I stand tall and puff out my chest as he walks toward me.
“Enoch. Your pride shows in everything you do. Every aspect of your life is on display for everyone to see. A constant reminder of your wealth and status. You can’t go a single day without boasting about it. I’ve overheard several conversations between you and other members of this city. You’re always one-upping them. The challenge I have for you won’t be an easy one.”
“Thank you for thinking of me to take on one of your challenges, Sir. I'm ready for the task and I know I have what it takes to win.”
“Why don’t you try giving me an answer that isn’t dripping with pride and I’ll still consider challenging you.”
“Thank you, Sir, for believing in me. I will do my best not to let you down.”
“That’s a little better. Here is your challenge. For one week, you must not boast or brag about anything of your own; not your money, family, house, cock size, anything. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir. Thank you for the opportunity.”
THE PAST WEEK HAS BEEN brutal. I’ve tried so hard to keep my mouth shut while in conversation with others. Cain was going on and on about how he overtook Samson; how he pushed him over the edge and made him fail his challenge. Cain has always been a thorn in my side and it took every ounce of humility I had to keep my mouth shut.
It’s the last night of my challenge. I’ve been strong all week, but I’ve had to constantly remind myself what was at stake. I’m on my way home from work. I’m tired, both mentally and physically, and all I can think about is a warm dinner and laying my head on a soft pillow. All of a sudden, the skies open up and the rain begins pouring down in sheets. The water is accumulating so quickly, the rivers are starting to overflow into the streets. A woman and a child are washed away down an embankment next to the river, but they’re able to grab hold of a low-hanging tree branch.