The Seven Deadly Sins

[Graybread]

The Seven Deadly Sins

A series of Vignettes, written by a single writer.
(Not a role-play thread.)
Each story should contain every sin, or one sin per story. Up to you.

Pride
The excessive belief in one's own abilities, an excessively high opinion of oneself; conceit. It has been called the sin from which all others arise. Pride is also known as Vanity.

Envy
A feeling of discontent and resentment aroused by and in conjunction with desire for the possessions, traits, status, abilities, situation, or qualities of another.

Gluttony
The inordinate desire to consume more than that which one requires. Excess in eating, extravagant indulgence of the appetite for food, or marked by an insatiable appetite for an activity or pursuit.

Lust
The inordinate craving for the pleasures of the body, intense or unrestrained sexual cravings.

Anger or Wrath
The manifested in the individual who spurns love and opts instead for fury. Anger is a feeling of keen displeasure (usually with a desire to punish) for what we regard as wrong toward ourselves or others. It may be excessive or misplaced, but is not necessarily criminal.

Greed
Also know as Avarice or Covetousness. The excessive desire to acquire or possess more than what one needs or deserves, especially with respect to material wealth.

Sloth
The aversion to work or exertion; laziness; indolence.


The Challenge
Make all references to each sin, as described above, within the sexual context.
(Okay, I've change the rules, my thread, my rules.)
Not each post has to have reference to sexual context, but your story, if you have an on going story, does needs to have sexual context in it.

Instead of: (Sloth) ‘He was too tired to get up and go to work the next morning, having made love all night.’ Try: ‘He didn’t care if she was satisfied, that would take to much effort on his part.’

 

[Graybread]

A small change

Maybe it was to much to try and get all the sins in one story.

So I've edited it:

Each story should contain every sin, or one sin per story. Or any combination. Up to you.

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

*query*

Is there an OOC or are you wanting pms for ideas or ... do you just want someone to jump right in ... ???


Love sin ... and as ever am tempted ... but will resist for now ...


Don't want to monopolise you hun!

Good luck!

DM x


(Besides I'm better at RP than lil' stories.)

 

[Graybread]

Re: *query*

Is there an OOC or are you wanting pms for ideas or ... do you just want someone to jump right in ... ???

Love sin ... and as ever am tempted ... but will resist for now ...
Don't want to monopolise you hun!

Good luck!

DM x


(Besides I'm better at RP than lil' stories.)

Jump right in and write your story DM.

Ah......you can monopolise you want dear.

 

[Why]

Pride.

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

OOC:

WOW!

Wonderful story Why!!

Really enjoyed reading this!!

Thanks for sharing it!

{{{huggs}}}

Mari x

 

[Graybread]

Great story Why.

Pride, the first of the seven.

More to come?

DM, do I see a story coming from you?

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

*smiles*

I'm not really good at stories ...

Pretty busy right now .... as you know ... but ...

Let me think .... maybe...

DM x

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

Stories

Not sure when I'll be able to write and post this ... but I'll take

SLOTH

Watch this space ... but don't expect it too soon ...

DM x

 

[Why]

LUST

[.

 

[Graybread]

Tom Dooley spat at the hangman as he slipped the noose around his neck.

“Damn your eyes,” he spat through discolored rotting teeth, “I’ll see you in hell.”

He watched as the hangman stepped back, his hand on the lever. Time slowed as the lever moved forward. He heard the latch release, and the trapdoor fell free. For an instant, he stood suspended in midair, and then the slow descent toward the hard ground below, ground that his feet would not touch. He felt the noose tighten around his neck, the sound of the rope straighten and stretch above him.

(Pride)
Tom knew the job was his, he was after all the best damn cowboy the west had ever seen. Before the Civil War, he’d ridden the Shawnee Trail, taking herds to markets in Kansas City and St. Louis. After the war, the Goodnight-Loving Trail, then the Chisholm Trail to Abilene and up the Western Trail to Dodge City. He was the best, the most experienced of all the cowboys looking to fill the job of Trail boss. His chest puffed as the cattle owner came by, walking in front of the assembled men, a crooked smile on his unshaven face.

The owner stopped in front of Gil Favor, “You’re my man Gil,” the owner said, shaking Favors hand.

Tom couldn’t believe his ears, Gil Favor, what the hell did he know about driving cattle. His hand dropped to the colt at his side, his thumb caressing the hammer. Instead he turned, walking away, heading for the saloon. He needed a whiskey, a whole bottle.

“I’ll git you Favor,” he said under his breath as he entered the saloon. “I’m the best that’s ever been.”



To be continued…..

 

[papillon24]

Greed

I'll put some effort into this one. I also have one ready for gluttony. I'll be seeing you all later

 

[Graybread]

Tom Dooley

(Envy)

“Gimme a bottle of whiskey,” he sneered at the bartender, tossing a coin on the bar. “And none of that rot gut piss either, I want the real stuff.”

He grabbed the bottle and glass the bartender set up and walked to a table in the corner, He preferred to drink alone. He poured and drank three quick shots, before settling back. He rolled a smoke, losing half the tobacco on his shirt. Sticking a match with his thumbnail, he lit the lopsided smoke. His anger evident as he flicked the match against the wall.

“Damn their eyes,” he mumbled. “That job should have been mine. Just ‘cause Favors got more drives behind him, that’s why.

He didn’t know why, but everybody seemed to like Favor better than him. Just because spoke better, maybe.

“I could speak better if’in I wanted too,” he mumbled, drinking another shot.

’jus cause he got clean clothes, he thought. Well if’in I had a wife like his, I have me some clean clothes too. If’in I had Favor’s wife I wouldn’t be going on no damn cattle drive no’way. I’d damn sure have her in the bed night and day.

He poured another shot of whiskey, the ashes from his smoke falling down the front of his dirty shirt, some catching in the stubble on his chin.

“What makes you so fuckin special Favor,” he growled, tossing the shot back. “That wife of your’un shoulda been mine anyhow, I seen her first.”

He drank the bottle of whiskey, then yelled at the bartender to bring him another.

“You’ve had enough Dooley,” the bartender said, knowing the trouble the man could cause.

“I’ll fuckin tell ya when I’ve had enough,” Dooley sneered at the man again.

The bartender brought him another bottle, shaking his head as he sat it on the table.

“Ya know…if’in I had Favor’s wivff, thed gimme tha fuckin job,” he said to the bartender, he words slurring.

“Right Tom,” the bartender said, walking away.

“How come Favor got’it all any’who,” he mumbled, pouring another shot and throwing it back. “It shoulda been me, A’mm as fuckin good as he ish, better…better than he ish.”

To be continued…..

 

[jaylene]

Great stories so far everyone! Can't wait to read the rest!

 

[Graybread]

Tom Dooley

(Gluttony)

Tom continued to drink, shot after shot of whiskey. Others in the saloon ignored him, although keeping an eye on him. They knew what kind of man he was. Tom argued with any that would even look his way.

Several times a cowboy held his friend back from drawing his gun, telling him it wasn’t worth it. Killing a drunk was never worth it, especially Tom Dooley.

“Gimme anudder fuckin boddle,” Tom slurred, slapping a coin on the bar.

“Only if ya take it with ya Tom,” the bartender said.

“Fug you, I wush leavin anyhows.”

Tom grabbed the bottle and stumbled toward the double swinging door, the front of his trouser wet and reeking where he had pissed himself. He made it out the door and around the corner of the saloon, staggering down the alley. He collapsed against the wall and slid down into a slumped position. He removed the cork from the bottle with his teeth, taking a long pull on the bottle.

In his drunken stupor he devised a plan to get even with Favor. He would wait until he left town for the cattle drive then make a trip to visit Favor’s wife.

“Thadda teash the cogsugger to tage my job,” he giggled insanely.

He continued to drink the whiskey, nearly as much ran from his mouth as went down his throat. Half way through the bottle he shit himself but hardly noticed.

“Fug her, thas whad I’m goin do. Fug her so good she’ll never loog at Favor again.”

He titled the bottle up gulping down the remaining whiskey, the last of it running down his whiskered dirty face. He vomited down his shirt before toppling over on his side, a mass of disgusting, stinking humanity.

 

[poohlive]

Kevin's first day was wild with discovery and excitement. He had been part of a programmer's guide, closed off in one of the many mazes od cubicles that made up the backhorse of this industry. He was happy to be with the job, it was just the thing he needed.
He came in, day after day, arriving just on time, with a small sack lunch of his, working straight trough until noon, eating his bologna sandwhich and cut up carrot sticks, with a bottle of Evian, and then continued to work right on through quitting time.
He was the perfect workhorse, cause he had no desires, no will, nothing more than to be happy with his mediocracy.
Quite proud of it, actually.
But, it wasn't as if he didn't feel anything. He was a normal man, and as any normal man, he had thoughts, feelings, desires. Such as, Allyson. Allyson, was the head of their particular department. She wasn't the boss, not so much as bosses go around the company. There were hundreds of bosses, each one a little higher up on the rung ladder of success, but she was the one most directly related to him.
So, every once in a while, she would come into his little cubicle, with a sheet of paper, or a request from the higher ups. He'd smile at her, smell that wonderful wildflower perfume she wore, try not to stare too much at her ample figure through the business suit, and make as much small talk as possible. She always smiled at him, but never really took any interest.
"Ha, you'd give anything to have her, wouldn't you?"
Kevin shook his head, but he had to hide his embarrasing smile. George had the cubicle nex tto him, typing away at something or other. He never paid much attention to his work, he seemed more interested in who was fucking who.
"Be careful man. She's doing the boss. Goes down on him almost every day."
Kevin shook his head, "No, come on. She's not like that."
George's voice wafted over the drone of monotonous typing, "Why do you think she got her promotion? You look at the executive staff? The only women are young, hot models, who seem to do anyting to get where they want to be."
"But, not Allyson..."
"Dude, watch."
So, for the first time in his three years working there, Kevin took a break, and joined George at the water fountain, trying not to look too obviously at Allyson's office door.
After a few minutes, the door opened, and an older man walked out. He just made a small adjustment in his pants, and said goodbye to inside.
Allyson nodded, that smile gone from her lips. She eyed both of them across the hall, sighed, and then slowly closed the door.
Rage swept over Kevin. He started to walk towards the old man, getting into the elevator that went up to the executive offices.
"No... man. No. Calm down."
George stopped him, had to push back on his chest in order to slow him down.
"You've got an anger problem, dude."
"He shouldn't do that. That's fucking sick. Allyson's a good girl."
"Whatever man. She made her bed, let her fucking lie in it."
Kevin's eyes grew to slits as he stared at George.
"Ok, ok, seriously. That's enough. Here. This is the number of a guy, he'll take care of that anger problem. Dude, just let me give you some advice.... relax. Take it easy, you're going to get yourself killed if you do that shit anymore."
Kevin held a small business card in his hands, some new age colors and images, with a Creative Solutions in smoky colored haze at the top. Someone named Gertrude Million, and a number.
Kevin didn't need it, he was fine.
And, all day, he was fine. That night, when he heated one of the many frozen dinners in his freezer, eating it as ice chips still swirled around the mashed potatoes, he was fine.
That morning when he made his bologna sandwhich and cut up carrot sticks, he was fine.
When he got to work, sat down, began typing and editing, drafting the new design, he was fine.
It wasn't until Allyson came through his cubicle, handing him a piece of paper, and smiling that all too beautiful smile that things began unraveling in his head. He just took the assignment, muttered a hello, and continued to work.
She seemed startled, almost hurt by his lack of affection, and left.
Kevin tried to let it go, and work hard, bury himself for the next few hours, just totally compell his time to whateve useless little program he happened to be writing, but it was useless.
He stopped in midsentence, in mid word, the computer screen blinking at the unfinished design.
He opened a drawer, leafed through a few scattered knick knacks, and found the business card.
He made an appointment that very day.
Yesterday he had taken his first break ever... today he did something just as bad, he left the office early.
It looking nothing like what he expected. He had this picture of candles and weird crystals, smell of inscence burning to hide whatever drug of choice the man seemed to be taking at the moment, and weird plush style rugs complete with huge pillows and bean bags.
Instead, he got a dirty, grungy, piece of shit apartment that looks as if it hadn't been cleaned in decades. He couldn't compete with the stench that came up, wafting of what could only be piss, rancid milk, and mold. He held his nose, each step inside making him more and more convinced he should just leave.
"So, what do you want?"
"I..." He stared at the man, in a stained wife beater, no pants, just crusty shorts, which Kevin tried not to look at. The stains on the shirt were recognixable, red and brown sauces, a piece of uneaten pepperoni, but his shorts? They were white... or rather, had once been white.
He kept his eyes on the sullen sunken face of the man, unshaved, who looked as if he were already tired with Kevin.
"George sent me, I'm not sure."
"George.... fuck. What is it? You want to be sexy, fuck the girls? Succesful, you wanna control your temper. You wanna fly high as a kite. Come on man, what do you want?"
Kevin held his answer inside his tongue. He bit down on it for a moment. It was the temper why he had been called her, his own temper. He thought of the other options for a moment, sex, power, desire? Could he really have all that.
"How can you make me successful?"
"Ah, a man after my own heart..." He ran off into the back room.
Kevin doubted they were men after each other's hearts. He stood there, watching as a mouse shit in the corner, before going to eat out of some half filled container....
When he came out, he held a small clear plastic bag in his hands, grinning ear to ear.
"Fucking money, this is gonna cost you. Four thousand."
Kevin's jaw dropped, "I think there's been some kind of mistake. You see, I just..."
The man shook his head, revealing his other hand. A small gun, black and sleak.
"I'm just an honest businessman, sir. I want to get paid, and you want to be everything you've ever wanted to be. Now... give me the fucking money."
Kevin was too scared to do anything. What in the fuck did George get him into? If he ever got out of this, George was going to fucking kill the bastard.
Kevin spoke meekly, "Do you take a check?"
"I'll need to see some I.D."
The transaction took less than a minute. And, all of a sudden Kevin was pushed out of the apartment, the bag in his hands.
"Just one small snort a day," He said, behind the closed door, "You won't need any more than that."
Inside the bag, there was a fine powder, light blue with shiny crystals sparkling from it. It had this beautiful serene look, that almost mesmerized him.
A drug, he was holding drugs now. He was a druggie. What had happened, what in the hell was George thinking?
He made it home, his heart beating a mile a minute, eyeing the rear view mirror every thirty seconds, expecting red lights to flash any time now. Some cop would pull him over, tell him he had a broken tail light... and what's this? Drugs? Well, looks like you're going to get ass fucked for the rest of your life, sorry pal.
He made it home without injury though, and sat in his small dining table, staring at the blue powder with crystals.
Well, it wouldn't hurt... would it?
If it's a drug, he'd get a little high, and then throw the rest away. That's all, right? He could just try it. Maybe it would take the rest of the fucking day away from him, what horrible day it had been.
So, he dipped his finger into the stuff, took out just a little pile, and snorted it into his nose.
It felt weird, like tiny needles had been shot into his brain. He winced once, and for a moment felt sick...
but then it was all gone.
The first feeling that came to him was that he was hungry.
Hungry.
That's it? This shit made him hungry?
Kevin shook his head, closing it up, and throwing it in his wastebasket, going to grab one of the frozen dinners inside his freezer.
But, tonight, he really didn't feel like a frozen dinner. Tonight he felt like going out to eat. This whim of an idea, so new and fantastical, just entered his mind, and he loved it so much. He loved the idea of going out, getting dressed, meeting new people, making friends, lovers, everything.
So, he stepped into his closet, pushed aside the boring browns, and the dreary blues, and chose a nice black suit, with a crisp tie.
He showered, shaved, dressed, splashed a little aftershave.. for the ladies, he laughed as he thought this, and went out to dinner.
He found a nice restaurant not too far away, got seated at a small table, and was asked what he wanted. His waitress was a young thing, barely out of high school, who flashed him one of those friendly smiles.
Kevin didn't know why, but all of a sudden, he wanted something more than food.
"You wouldn't happen to be on the menu, would you?" It was a horrible line, and he regretted it the minute it came from his mouth, but at the same time, it felt good. It felt powerful, almost seductive. It was as if, he had chosen the wrong words, but the tone was just so perfect, that everything else didn't matter.
She blushed, gave a huge giggle, and almost reluctantly said that she wasn't.
"Oh, a shame. What time are you off?"
She bit her lower lip, said that she was due for a break... follow him. Kevin, didn't really understand, and just followed her, through the dining area, through the bar, passed the kitchen, and back out to the alley, where a trashcan met them.
She didn't say a word, just dropped to her knees, and sucked him good. Kevin didn't protest, he loved it, such a good feeling, and wanton as well. He had needed this, for so long. There was nothing more he needed at the moment, just some young girl that he didn't know her name.
He pushed her against one of the walls, and took her easily enough. She was eager, and despite them being outside, cried and moaned for all she was worth.
He came, deep and hard inside her, thanked her for her wonderful time, and left without. He was done with her, spent, and felt no need to draw it on any longer.
The next morning, he dug throug the trash, grabbed up the bag of magical drug elixer, and snorted a pile from his finger twice as large as the first one.
At work, he kicked the shit out of George, just came in, late, another first for him, went right into George's cubicle, who was talking on the phone to someone about how he had done two chicks last night, incredible. Incredible. Kevin punched him out of his chair, kicked the fucker silly, and then sat down beside him as he was bloody and bruised.
"Thanks for the shit man," Kevin gave a smile. George, who just laid there, shaking his head, understood.
Everyone had gathered around, quite sullenly, looking at the fight, wondering just what to do, who to call.
"Don't worry, everything's fine. Get back to work."
Amazingly, they did. They turned around, and went right back to whatever they were doing. No one picked up a phone, asked for security, or anything.
"Leave, George. Get the fuck out."
George nodded, and within the hour he limped his way to the elevator.
Kevin waited outside of Allyson's office with a baseball bat in hand. He watched the far elevators with a crisp sort of rage that could only push his adrenaline even farther.
When the time came, and the old man stepped out, a sheepish grin on his face, and something more than lust in his eyes, Kevin said hello.
The man didn't recognize him, as well he shouldn't. He had only met Kevin once, three years ago, for his mediocre meeting. But today Kevin wasn't mediocre anymore.
Today, Kevin was fucking on top of the world.
He beat the shit out of the man, within an inch of his life. No one stopped, called, complained, or even raised their head in his direction. They went about their business, and he went about it.
"My name's Kevin. I'm taking over your job."
The man, nodded, his arms raise dover his bloody face.
Good.
Kevin felt like celebrating.
He went into Allyson's office, and fucked her good and hard. He even let her cum all over his cock, although she had to clean it up afterwards. Fucking bitches, always had to clean up their messes.
So, Kevin got a nice plush office, tons of new respect, the admiration of the company, and his people all seemed to love him so. He would say something, and they'd jump at the opportunity.
During the next coming weeks and months, he had several women pass through his office. Allyson was a regular, she didn't even work anymore. She just sat next to him, more than not naked, fumbling around his ever hard erection. The blue shit, while doing tons of other wonderful advancements, seemed to keep him always hard and ready to fuck.
He couldn't get enough of pussy. Threesomes weren't enough. He needed more. Four girls, five, fucking their asses, cumming in their mouths. Letting them lick each other from his carnal desire.
They also fucked other members of the company. Older men with wives, who needed nothing more than a good handjob to keep themselves satisfied. It got him tons of bonuses, yacht's, millions in cash, a mansion, even trips around the world and back.
Before the month was out, he became the president of the company. Men envied him, women desired him, and nothing he said could ever go wrong.
Until one day, when he got into the office, he stepped to the bathroom to clean himself up, give him a good look in the mirror. He had grown stronger, more muscular. He was 34, and now... somehow in the mirror, looked more like 24. His hair was straight, strong, his teeth immaculate white. Even his eyes had a clearer blue color, almost icy.
Damn, he looked good.
He bent down to take another snort of his little blue wonder drug. But, the drug was gone. The bag held nothing more than a few crystals, clinging to the side.
Panic rose in his throat.
He had his limo drive to the apartment complex, pounding on the shitty stained door, wanting to get more of his little drug, needing it.
"Please open up, dude. I'll give you four million dollars, come on. What's taking so fucking long?"
The door opened, and this latin woman, holding a baby in one hand, and on the phone in the other gave him a hard stare.
"Where's... where's the guy who used to live here? Where's fucking Gertrude Million."
She spoke in spanish, but a few english words crept through, enough for him to understand. Florida, vacation, no se... no se.
That summed it up just about as good as anything else.
By the time he went back to his office, he felt depressed, and tired. Since he had taken the drug, he hadn't slept much at all, vowing instead to party, fuck, and suck his way around town.
But now, all he wanted to do was sleep.
Several messages greeted him back in his place. The I.R.S. had taken a keen interest in all his new assets, wondering just how he got them. Allyson came in, already undressing her blouse, but as she looked at him, she stopped.
"Come here, baby," He said, patting his lap.
She feigned a smile, said something about work to do, and left in a hurry.
By that afternoon, the investors in the company had voted him out, no severance, no packages, just leave quietly, and nothing would happen. He left, with little fuss.
Women, who had craved his cock, cummed over and over again, barely looked at him, barely noticed him. His clothing hung loosely around him, tattered and torn.
His mansion had been taken away, the I.R.S. had already repossessed it. His old apartment was still there, and he went back to it, cooking himself a frozen dinner.
Several days passed, in which he had gotten several calls, threatens to sue. He had, in all of his wonderful time exploiting, several women had gotten pregnant. Now, they wanted child support, they wanted him to pay.
He tried to find a job, something to keep all of these little mistakes of his in line.
Nothing came to him though, no one hired him, no one even gave him a second chance. He lost his apartment, and moved out on the streets, getting food where he could, living off of what he could.
He found the back of a restaurant, that seemed to throw away the most tasty foods. He was out there, scavenging through the trash, when the door opened.
A young woman came out, holding the hand of a young man, who seemed to be in a different plane of existence. She said very little, just got down on her knees, unzipped his pants, and sucked him off.
Kevin just watched with a kind of longing, eating brown lettuce and maggoty rice.
The earth continued to spin, as it always does, and life thrived.
As it always has done.