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096: The Girl Who Wasn’t Me
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2025-06-20 01:27:06
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Ten Sinful Commandments 106: The Girl Who Didn’t Die in the Fire
The candle had burned low beside them.Its wax curled like a closing eye, as if the room itself had finally stopped watching. The silence wasn’t sacred now.It was final.Lydia shifted slowly, her body aching in that beautiful, soul-deep way—the kind that meant something real had happened. Not just to her body. But to the thing inside it.She lay on her back, staring at the ceiling as Damian traced slow, reverent circles on her stomach.He hadn’t spoken since she told him she didn’t regret the kneeling.But she could feel the words building in him.And when they finally came, they didn’t sound like a man seeking forgiveness.They sounded like a man who wanted to start over.“What happens now?” he asked.Lydia turned to him.“Now,” she said quietly, “we see who we are when no one is watching.”He swallowed.“And if I’m not the man you need me to be?”She reached out and cupped his jaw, her thumb brushing the place he used to hide behind.“You already are.”They didn’t speak for a while
Ten Sinful Commandments 105: Commandments 10:If You Kneel, Kneel for Love—or Not at All
The house was silent.Not the kind of silence that hides screams or swallows memories.The kind of silence that waits.Lydia moved through the corridor barefoot, skin still glowing from the flames she’d lit—on his body, on her rules, on everything they’d built from obedience and sin.She didn’t tremble anymore.She didn’t second-guess.Not even after what happened in the red room.Not even after what she let herself feel.But that was the danger now, wasn’t it?She had punished. She had reclaimed. She had dominated.And now the question wasn’t what else she could takeIt was: Would she ever give again?The elevator doors opened on a floor she didn’t recognize.No red velvet.No sterile lights.No mirrored walls.Just warmth.And a single flickering candle in the center of the room.Next to it, a chair.And next to the chair—Damian.Kneeling.Head bowed.Unbound.Unshackled.Uncommanded.Waiting.Not because he was ordered.Not because she broke him.But because something in him chose
Ten Sinful Commandments 104: The Price of Obedience
Lydia didn’t sleep.She let Damian fall into a slow, dreamless doze beside her, one hand resting on her thigh like he was grounding himself, silently begging her not to vanish.But she stayed awake.Eyes half-lidded.Mind alive.Her body was satisfied, but her soul? Aroused.She traced idle fingers along his jaw, studying the rise and fall of his chest. He looked younger like this. Less calculated. Less… curated.And yet still hers.He’d given her his confession.He’d taken his punishment.And now she owned the part of him no one had ever touched.The part that wanted to obey.She rose from the couch without a word.His fingers slid off her thigh in his sleep, and she didn’t look back.There was something else calling to her now.Something deeper than pain or power.Something buried.She walked through the East Wing nude, barefoot, unafraid—like the house itself recognized her now. The walls didn’t creak in protest. The lights didn’t flicker.Everything held its breath.Waiting.At th
Ten Sinful Commandments Chapter 103: The Moan Before Mercy
Damian was shaking.Not from pain.From denial.From the way Lydia sat on top of him like a sentence still being served, her body slick, pulsing, perfectly still—while his own was breaking apart beneath her restraint.His breathing had become shallow. His voice, silent. He had forgotten how to beg—because even begging would be too much of a privilege now.Lydia leaned forward, dragging her lips over his temple, her voice lower than breath:“Now you know what it feels like.To want without power.To burn with no one to save you.”She ground against him again—once.Enough to make him curse under his breath.Then stilled.Again.He whimpered.And Lydia laughed softly, cruelly.“No,” she whispered. “Not yet.”She moved off him slowly, and his whole body twitched with the absence.Desperate. Ashamed.She stepped away, bare and glowing, her back to him as she reached for the silk tie and looped it loosely around her own wrist again.“You think your punishment was the denial,” she said quiet
Ten Sinful Commandments 102: Commandment 9 – Punishment Must Always Fit the Sin
Lydia didn’t believe in forgiveness anymore.Not the kind they taught in soft voices with folded hands and tear-soaked apologies. Not the kind that begged for understanding while the body still bore the evidence of someone else’s power.No.She believed in balance now.In cause and consequence. In the exquisite justice of pain that fits desire. Of confession answered by correction. Of sin paid for in sweat, gasps, and surrender.And Damian?He was overdue.Not for torment.For truth.She stood in front of the mirror in her quarters, fingers slowly dragging the black ribbon around her throat loose. The same one he once used to blindfold her. Now it was hers.Her symbol.Her weapon.Her invitation.She tied it around her wrist like a mark—a signal—then opened the door to the corridor and waited.Ten seconds passed.Fifteen.She didn’t move.Didn’t call him.She didn’t need to.Because when she heard his footsteps coming—slow, deliberate, cautious—she knew.He’d seen it.The ribbon.He r
Ten Sinful Commandments 101: The Silence That Submits
Damian didn’t move for a long time.He sat where Lydia left him—naked, sweat-slicked, and entirely stripped of pretense.His pulse hadn’t settled.His mind hadn’t recovered.She hadn’t just taken him.She’d rewritten him.And somewhere between her command to kneel and the moment she walked away with his body still pulsing inside hers, he knew something irreversible had happened.He wasn’t the one observing anymore.He was the one being studied.The silence around him wasn’t just stillness.It was submission.Not his. Hers. The kind she’d once given willingly—before she learned how much power lived inside withholding.She didn’t slam the door when she left. She didn’t need to.She haunted it.And now… she haunted him.⸻Lydia walked with purpose.Her robe clung to her skin in damp folds, her thighs still trembling with aftershocks. But her mind? Sharp. Focused.Awake.This wasn’t the rush that came from pleasure.It was the power that followed clarity.She’d tasted Damian. But more imp
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