Beneath the Shadow of Sin – Chapter 3: The Empty House – by Aarav Anthem

Beneath the Shadow of Sin – Chapter 3: The Empty House – by Aarav Anthem

With Sarah and his siblings gone, Ethan struggles to maintain normalcy at school while Marcus’s control intensifies. Introduced to Jack, Marcus’s friend, Ethan faces a risky encounter, hinting at a shared future that deepens his entrapment.

Ethan dragged himself through the school day, his mind a fog of guilt and exhaustion. The fluorescent lights of the hallways buzzed overhead, a constant reminder of the world he was supposed to belong to—one of calculus tests, locker room banter, and college applications. But that world felt distant now, like a half-remembered dream. Every step he took echoed with the memory of Marcus’s hands in his hair, the taste of him lingering despite hours of brushing his teeth. Ethan avoided mirrors, afraid of what he’d see in his own eyes.

At lunch, he sat alone in the cafeteria, pushing cold fries around his tray. His friends had stopped asking why he’d grown so quiet lately; they’d moved on to their own dramas, leaving Ethan to his isolation. He checked his phone, hoping for a message from his mother, Sarah, but there was nothing. She and his siblings, Liam and Emma, were still at Grandma’s, and the silence from her was deafening. Ethan wondered if she knew, if she could sense the fracture in their family widening with every night he spent under Marcus’s roof.

Back home, the house felt like a trap. With Sarah gone, Marcus’s presence dominated every room, his scent—beer, sweat, and cologne—clinging to the air. Ethan tried to stay invisible, locking himself in his room to sketch or blasting music through his headphones. But Marcus was relentless, his boots thudding through the house, his voice calling out for Ethan to “stop hiding like a little bitch.” Each encounter left Ethan more tangled in a web of shame and desire, his body betraying him even as his mind screamed to resist.

That evening, Ethan was sprawled on the living room couch, pretending to watch TV, when Marcus strode in, a beer in one hand and a smirk on his face. He was shirtless, his jeans riding low on his hips, the dark hair across his chest catching the glow of the lamp. “You’re jumpy as hell, kid,” Marcus said, plopping down beside Ethan, close enough that their thighs brushed. “What’s got you so spooked? Me?” He leaned in, his breath warm against Ethan’s ear. “Or is it what you know’s coming?”

Ethan’s heart raced, his hands gripping the remote until his knuckles whitened. “Just watching TV,” he muttered, his voice tight. He kept his eyes fixed on the screen, some mindless action movie he hadn’t followed.

Marcus chuckled, his arm draping across the back of the couch, fingers grazing Ethan’s shoulder. “Bullshit. You’re thinking about last night. Bet you’re hard already.” He reached down, palming Ethan’s crotch through his jeans, and Ethan flinched, his body tensing. Marcus was right—Ethan was half-hard, a fact that made his stomach churn. “See? Knew it.”

“Dad, not here,” Ethan said, glancing at the open windows. The curtains were drawn back, the streetlights casting long shadows across the lawn. Anyone walking by could see in, could witness the madness unfolding on the couch.

Marcus’s grin widened, his hand squeezing Ethan’s bulge. “Why not? Adds to the fun, don’t it?” He popped the button on Ethan’s jeans, tugging the zipper down with a slow, deliberate rasp. Ethan’s breath hitched, his body frozen between panic and want. Marcus’s fingers slipped inside, wrapping around Ethan’s cock through his boxers, stroking lazily. “Look at you, leaking already. You’re such a slut for this.”

Ethan’s face burned, his eyes darting to the windows. “Please, Dad, close the curtains,” he whispered, his voice trembling. But Marcus only laughed, his strokes growing firmer, his thumb circling the damp spot on Ethan’s boxers.

“Nah, let ‘em watch,” Marcus said, his voice low and rough. He tugged Ethan’s jeans and boxers down to his thighs, exposing him to the cool air. Ethan’s cock sprang free, hard and aching, and Marcus groaned approvingly. “Fuck, kid, you’re so ready for me.” He leaned back, unbuckling his own belt with one hand, his eyes never leaving Ethan’s. “Get over here. Ride me.”

Ethan’s mind reeled, but his body obeyed, climbing onto Marcus’s lap like he was under a spell. Marcus’s jeans were open, his cock thick and heavy, jutting up against his belly. Ethan’s hands shook as he positioned himself, Marcus’s hands gripping his hips, guiding him down. The first press was intense, a burn that made Ethan gasp, but Marcus’s voice was steady, coaxing. “Take it, Ethan. You can do it.”

Ethan sank down, the stretch overwhelming, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. Marcus groaned, his head tipping back, his hands tightening on Ethan’s hips. “Fuck, that’s tight,” he muttered, his hips bucking slightly, driving deeper. Ethan braced himself on Marcus’s shoulders, the man’s muscles hard under his fingers, and started to move, slow at first, then faster as the pain gave way to a twisted pleasure.

The living room was a blur, the TV’s gunfire mixing with Marcus’s grunts and Ethan’s stifled moans. The open windows loomed in Ethan’s peripheral vision, the risk of exposure heightening every sensation. Marcus’s hands roamed, one sliding up Ethan’s shirt to pinch his nipple, the other gripping his ass, spreading him wider. “You love this, don’t you?” Marcus growled, thrusting up to meet Ethan’s movements. “My little whore, riding Daddy’s cock.”

Ethan’s head spun, his body on fire. He hated the words, hated himself, but the pleasure was undeniable, building with every thrust. Marcus’s cock hit a spot inside him that made him see stars, and he cried out, unable to hold back. “Fuck, Dad,” he gasped, his nails digging into Marcus’s shoulders.

“That’s it,” Marcus said, his voice rough with lust. “Come for me, kid.” His hand wrapped around Ethan’s cock, stroking in time with their movements, and Ethan shattered, his orgasm hitting like a tidal wave. Hot cum spilled over Marcus’s hand, and Marcus groaned, his thrusts growing erratic. A moment later, he slammed up, burying himself deep as he came, filling Ethan with a warmth that made him shudder.

They stayed like that, panting, until Marcus pushed Ethan off, smirking. “Clean up, kid. Don’t want your mom coming home to a mess.” He zipped up, grabbed his beer, and headed to the kitchen, leaving Ethan sprawled on the couch, his body trembling and his mind a storm.

Later that night, Marcus returned with a guest—Jack, a burly man in his late thirties with a shaved head and a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. Jack was Marcus’s drinking buddy, a mechanic who’d always made Ethan uneasy with his crude jokes and lingering stares. They sat in the living room, beers in hand, talking about cars and women, but Ethan caught Jack’s eyes on him, appraising, hungry.

“Ethan’s growing up nice,” Jack said, his voice casual but loaded. “Bet he’s a hit with the ladies.” He winked, and Marcus laughed, clapping Jack on the shoulder.

“Oh, he’s a hit, alright,” Marcus said, his tone dripping with meaning. “Kid’s got skills you wouldn’t believe.” He met Ethan’s eyes, a challenge in his gaze, and Ethan’s stomach dropped. He knew that look—Marcus was planning something, and Jack was part of it.

“Gonna have to see that for myself sometime,” Jack said, his grin widening. He raised his beer in a mock toast, and Ethan forced a smile, his heart pounding. The air felt thick with unspoken promises, and Ethan realized he was no longer just Marcus’s secret—he was becoming something shared, something owned.

As Jack left, Marcus leaned close, his breath hot against Ethan’s ear. “You’re gonna like Jack,” he murmured. “He’s got some ideas for you. Real fun ones.” He pulled back, smirking, and Ethan felt the walls of the house closing in, the emptiness swallowing him whole.

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