7 Sins: Pride

Cyanlot's Forward

The stories in the 7 Sins collection of stories are not to be taken as morality tales, underscoring the seriousness of these alleged sins--well, not all of them, anyway. Pride, envy, gluttony, lust, greed, sloth, and wrath might all be character flaws, or even "sins", I suppose. But they're not the worst by far. How about selfishness, indifference to the suffering of others, cruelty?

The traditional seven deadly sins are just an organizing device for a set of stories. I wasn't the first author on Literotica to think of this vehicle. If you search "Seven Deadly" and '7 Deadly" on Literotica, you'll find lots of other stories using this device. If I'd known this before writing my own stories, I might have abandoned the project, but I didn't find this out until I'd written six of my own stories. So, giving due credit to the others who thought of this, too, I've chosen to publish my own "7 Sins" series.

Each story is independent of the others. There are no recurrent characters in them and there's no recommended order in which they should be read. They vary in length and in the themes explored.

Comments are always appreciated, even negative ones if they are thoughtful. But there's no need to leave comments of the following sort:

• "This story describes instances of unsafe sex--of people having casual oral, anal, or vaginal intercourse without protection." True, so true. It's a fantasy, numbskull, not a script to be followed.
• "I would behave very differently than the character in this story." Good for you! This story isn't about you.
• "Cyanlot is a sick puppy!" Well, no ... I'm fine, thank you. My stories don't convey some deep, dark yearnings. They're just stories.

One final note. I'm trying to place all of these in the "Gay Male" category even though several contain no gay male activity. Many do and, so, that seems the best category for the collection. I'll tag them as appropriate.

Enjoy the series ... or not.

-Cyanlot

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7 Sins: Pride

["Pride (Latin: superbia) is considered the original and most serious of the seven deadly sins on almost every list.... It is also thought to be the source of the other capital sins, known as hubris.... It is identified as dangerously corrupt selfishness, the putting of one's own desires, urges, wants, and whims before the welfare of other people. In even more destructive cases, it is irrationally believing that one is essentially and necessarily better, superior, or more important than others, failing to acknowledge the accomplishments of others and excessive admiration of the personal image or self." -Wikipedia]

Part I: The Fall

I had everything going for me: good looks, a great job, money, a trophy wife, and an 8" cock to fuck her (and lots of other chicks) with.

So, why was I now on my knees worshiping the tiny pecker of this wimp I'd always looked down on? It wasn't because I enjoyed sucking cock; I can tell you that. It wasn't because I enjoyed being humiliated. And it certainly wasn't because I liked Aaron; he was a dweeb, a loser. I had never had time for people like him.

Well, they say that "pride goeth before the fall." In this case, pride went before the fall to my knees to service a dork like Aaron.

I had a lot to be proud about. I'd always been the envy of other guys because girls loved me. I don't remember ever being turned down for a date and almost all of my dates had "happy endings" if that was what I wanted. More than one chick was happy to give me something on the side, a blow job or a one night stand, even when she knew that I was serious about another woman at the time.

My career took off quickly after college. At 30, I was raking in close to $200K a year and on a steep trajectory toward top management. My success wasn't really from hard work or brilliance on my part. I was just the sort of guy that people liked, which made it easy to advance in the company.

I fucked around a lot before I got married to my stunningly beautiful "trophy wife," Denise. And, I fucked around a lot after we were married. I was the alpha male in any group. I deserved any woman I wanted. And I usually got any woman I wanted--even wives of friends and even my boss's wife.

You might think that fucking the boss's wife could jeopardize the career path I was on. But au contraire! Sheila was a beautiful woman but she was 45 and feeling as if she was losing her beauty. Our tryst was affirming for her. And one of the ways that she bolstered her ego was by trying to be the best lover possible--to outdo any other women I'd been with. That was a difficult challenge to meet, but I enjoyed every minute of Sheila's attempts.

Sheila had a way of promoting me to her husband that didn't make him feel threatened. I know that she was responsible for me getting some important assignments because, at key moments, she mentioned how good a "people person" I was. Fucking her had multiple benefits for me.

I guess most people, when they're getting married, think they're going to be faithful to their spouses. Not me. I never even entertained the idea. Don't get me wrong. Denise is a stunner--tall, blonde, thin but with ample breasts, gorgeous face, etc. Any other guy should be happy to think that she was the only chick he'd be boning for the rest of his life. Not me, though. Like I said, I figured I deserved any woman I wanted. And I wanted a lot of women. I mean, there were a lot of women I wanted to fuck and, also, I wanted to be the person who fucked a lot of women.

So I did.

None of that helps you understand why I'm now on my knees sucking Aaron's little pecker. But it's necessary background information.

I'd known Aaron since college. We weren't friends--why would I be friends with a twit like him?!--but I knew who he was. I was surprised when Aaron got a job at the company I was working for. But, then, his job was appropriate for him. He did low-level IT for the office. You know, when some incompetent idiot couldn't figure out how to update an app or got a security alert, Aaron was the guy to fix it. He didn't do anything that your average 14-year-old computer geek couldn't do, but I guess the company needed someone like that.

Aaron also freelanced, doing personal IT work for people in the company and, I guess, others. He helped people set up home computers, entertainment systems, and smart home devices.

When Denise and I bought a new house, I hired Aaron to do all of those things for us. I could have done them myself but I was so busy with work that it was smart to off-load these low-level things to someone like Aaron. Besides, I liked the idea of showing an old college acquaintance what success looks like. I was certain that he'd envy everything about my life: my house, my cars, and, especially, my wife.

As it turned out, Aaron was a bit better at IT things than I'd thought and considerably more entrepreneurial than expected. The home security system I'd had him install didn't just allow me to view everything that was happening in the house at any time from anywhere in the world. It gave Aaron the same access. And in setting up my computer system, he'd given himself a "back door" so he had access to everything on my computer and my phone, which was linked to my computer. I came to learn that he'd also set himself up to be able to spy on people at work through their computer and to access files he had no business seeing.

If I'd been able to reflect on this in the abstract, I would have sort of admired it. Aaron would have gone up in my estimation. Who would have guessed that this apparently mild-mannered, low-ambition, loser would actually show the chutzpah to do these sorts of things? But, on my knees with Aaron's hard pencil dick in my mouth, I couldn't really view these things in the abstract. His chutzpah was the reason I was in this predicament.

Over the course of six months, Aaron had collected enough kompromat on me to ruin my life. Divorce, financial ruin, prison--he held all of those over my head.

He recorded videos of me entertaining multiple women in my house when Denise was out of town. And, when I say 'entertaining', I mean fucking in every one of their holes, over the counter in the kitchen, on the couch in the living room, in the bathtub, and what would no doubt be worst in Denise's view, in our marital bed.

That's the divorce part. It would be costly financially, too, but it wouldn't be "financial ruin." The "financial ruin" part, along with the "prison" part, had to do with another matter entirely.

I was earning great money, like I said. But it wasn't enough. After all, I had lots of "off the book" expenses. I entertained my women well: the best restaurants and hotels and lots of nice presents. I'd found a way to get extra income "off the books" by, well, I guess the word is 'embezzling' from the company.

My method was clever and hard to detect. But not hard, as it turned out, for a guy who had unlimited access to my personal computer and the company's books. If what I'd done had come out, I'd be in prison for a decade at least. No more alpha male champion of the world; probably some thug's prison bitch!

So, Aaron confronted me with all the incriminating evidence he had on me--making it clear that he had set up a "dead man switch". That meant that if "anything happened to him"--as he put it melodramatically--all of the material he had would automatically get publicized. Hackneyed as the threat was, it was probably smart of him to do that because, to tell the truth, as I was panicking when he showed me the evidence, the thought of killing him did crossed my mind.

I sat, slack jawed, after he'd revealed the goods he had on me. What the hell did he want? Did he want to ruin my life, just because I'd been an arrogant son of a bitch to him and treated him like a non-entity? Or, was he just after money? Could I buy him off for a few thousand dollars?

What Aaron wanted became crystal clear almost immediately.

"The way I figure it, Connor," the smug asshole said, "I've got you pretty much by the balls." He smirked, gloating about his now superior position. "You really have to do whatever I tell you to do--unless, of course, you'd like to lose everything you have and go to prison."

He was right. I sat quietly, resigned to my fate, the details of which were still unknown to me, waiting for the demand that was surely coming.

"We're going to start, Connor, by clearly establishing the new pecking order. You're going to get on your knees and suck my cock."

"What?!" I was genuinely shocked. "You've got to be kidding?... Are you a faggot!"

It probably wasn't the smartest move to say this to the guy who held my fate in hands.

"Not at all, asshole," he shot back. "This has nothing to do with being attracted to you. It has everything to do with making it very clear to you who's in charge here and what that means to your range of choices."

"Come on, Aaron," I pleaded. "I don't want to suck your cock."

"And, to be clear, this has nothing to do with what you want." Aaron paused. "No, I take that back. This has everything to do with what you want. I'm assuming that you don't want to suck my cock. In fact, I hope the idea repulses you--makes you sick to your stomach. That's precisely why I'm making you do it!"

I got it. I really did. Aaron was now the alpha male, at least relative to me. I was the beta male who would have to do his bidding.

"I mean now!" Aaron barked, standing up in front of me.

With the thought of my life going up in flames, and a sinking feeling of abject resignation in my gut, I got to my knees in front of Aaron and got ready to perform my duties.

Aaron unfastened his pants and pushed them, and his whitey-tighties down past his knees. He pulled up the tails of his shirt and ordered, "Get going. And make it good!"

I was surprised by how small his package was. I don't just mean his dick but also his tiny ball sack with marble-sized testicles. Except for the small shock of soft brown hair that surrounded his dick and balls, he looked almost pre-pubescent. No wonder this guy was a loser with women. I wondered how many times he'd heard one say, "Is it in yet?" Of course, that assumes that he ever made it that far with a woman.

His dick was swelling in anticipation--not that it got very large. Aaron wasn't a "shower" or a "grower". As I put my hand under his now fully erect penis, I felt that it wasn't even the thickness of a hotdog, and it wasn't nearly as long, either. It was, though, incredibly stiff. I guess not having much too volume to fill made it easy to get very hard, very fast.

"Get going, Connor," Aaron demanded. "I want to see your lips wrapped around my cock and I want you to suck like you're loving the feeling of my cock filling your mouth."

Now, there was so much wrong with that. First, of course, I wouldn't be loving it at all. But, more to the point, that little thing wouldn't be "filling my mouth." And, it even seemed wrong to call it a 'cock', which to my mind meant something big, or at least normal sized. Aaron's thing should be called a 'pecker', a 'dicklet, or maybe even a 'weewee'.

Whatever it was, it was about to enter my mouth. That was certain. The sooner I started, the sooner this would be over.

So, I leaned forward and took Aaron's little pecker in my mouth. I think the fact that he moaned loudly and said, "That's good, Connor, suck my cock like you love it," was almost worse than the actual feeling of his shaft in my mouth.

Aaron was moving his hips back and forth, sort of fucking my mouth. "Oh, sweet. Take it deep in your mouth!" Shit, even when his pubic bone banged against my upper lip, I wasn't "taking it deep." His dick wasn't one anyone would be deepthroating--it was more like deep-near-the-back-of-your-mouthing!

I guess I should be thankful for that. It would be even worse if I were struggling to wrap my lips around a huge cock that was pressing down my virgin throat. But I couldn't muster a feeling of gratitude.

Aaron, on the other hand, was enjoying this immensely. I wondered for a second whether this was the first blow job he'd ever had. But I figured he'd probably gotten hookers to suck him off. Do you think he got a discount for his diminutive size? Did he find a hooker that would charge by the inch? I wondered.

Whether he'd gotten some women to suck him off by paying her or simply by them feeling sorry for him, I think this was different for him. He was enjoying this especially because it was me, degrading myself by subordinating myself to him in this most humiliating way.

"Oh, God, Connor," he panted, "keep it up. You're going to get your sweet reward."

Sweet reward my ass! I'll bet he'd practiced in advance what he would say while he was fucking my mouth.

It wasn't a sweet reward but soon I felt his thighs clench and his motions get more spasdic as his tiny shaft began to unload in my mouth.

You know how you read porn that talks about "jet after jet of hot, salty cum blasting into a mouth." Well, that's not what happened. Aaron's dick produced only a couple of small squirts of juice. Still, it made me gag--not the quantity, just the taste and texture, and maybe even just the idea was enough to make me gag.

"Swallow it, you cocksucker!" Aaron barked out between panting for air. "You know you want it. You earned it. Now swallow it!"

I did swallow it as I rocked back onto my heels. I was looking for something--anything--to drink to wash the taste of Aaron's sperm from my mouth. But there was nothing in the room. I decided I just had to tolerate the lingering taste in my mouth until Aaron decided that his little debasement session was over.

Before tucking his shriveled dick away, Aaron decided to add another indignity. "Now, kiss my cock and thank it for giving you such a tasty treat."

Sheeze! What an asshole! That's what I thought. But what I did was to kiss his now-floppy little tool and thank it for spewing its load in my mouth.

Aaron put his dick away and sat down.

I got back up in a chair and said, with as much authority as I could muster, "Okay, Aaron. You proved your point. Now that's the end of it."

I figured it couldn't hurt to try. Despite what had just happened, Aaron was still a dweeb and I was fundamentally a "take charge" kind of guy. Maybe I could re-establish the God-ordained natural pecking order by sheer force of will. But Aaron was having none of it.

"Oh, Connor," he shot back, "it's very far from the end of it." He was feeling powerful. "Of course, you could end it all anytime by just refusing to do what I tell you to do. That would mean a ruined life for you. But that's your choice."

Some choice! There's no way I was going down that path. But I'd only begun to fathom the awfulness of the path I was on.

"Okay, Connor. Now get out your phone and CashApp me $500."

"What the fuck?! What are you talking about? I'm not going to give you $500, or anything."

"You didn't think that you were going to suck my cock for free, did you?" The little shit was smirking. "It's not like I'm going to give that away!"

I sat in stunned silence for a minute. This fucker really intended to charge me--and a lot--for sucking his pecker?!

"I mean it, Connor. What's $500 to you given what you get from the company, both legally and illegally?"

The not so subtle reminder of the blackmail material Aaron had over me led me to reluctantly pull out my phone. As I pulled up CashApp, Aaron told me to put "For Services Rendered" in the note field. So, there I was paying $500 for the "privilege" of sucking Aaron's dick. In consolation, I reminded myself that it was really for the privilege of not going to jail!

As Aaron got up to leave, he said, "It's been a pleasure, Connor. We'll need to do this often."

Unfortunately, we did.

Part II: Further Humiliation

Aaron took advantage of the power he wielded over me frequently. One or two times a week, he'd arrange to get me on my knees servicing him with my mouth. Sometimes at my house when Denise was away, sometimes in my office (my secretary must have wondered why I was having so many computer problems), and sometimes he'd make me show up at his apartment "asking if I could please suck his cock."

On one of those mandated visits to his apartment, he had a brilliant idea to change up the routine a bit to humiliate me even more.

We were in his living room and I was expecting the now routine "get on your knees, take out my dick, and suck me off" scenario. But Aaron had other ideas.

He had me stand up in front of him and told me to pull down my pants. I wondered for a minute whether he was planning to suck me off. I'd always pegged him as possibly gay. Maybe he'd fantasized about sucking my cock and was finally going to do that.

But, no, that wasn't his plan at all.

"Get down on your knees, Connor."

I started to take my pants off completely. They were just around my ankles at this point. But Aaron stopped me.

"I didn't say to take your pants off. Just leave them there and get on your knees."

It was awkward getting down on my knees hobbled like this. I guess that was part of the point.

When I was on my knees in front of Aaron, he stood up and stripped off his clothes. He was positioned just in front of me so his hardening little dick was almost in my face. But instead of thrusting it into my mouth, he sat down on the couch and began slowly stroking his cock, not trying to cum but just keeping it standing at attention.