She and He and What Must Be – part five

She watched him from the shadows, a habit she both enjoyed and excelled at. He was starting to stir which peaked her excitement and anticipation. The first moments for her lovers were usually filled with the medicinal grogginess that accompanied the use of chloroform, then came the confusion. Without fail their eyes opened wide when they discovered that they were not where they ought to be and that was always followed by their realization that they were strapped down. The struggling varied between them; some seeming to give up sooner than others, but they all pulled and twisted at the start. She particularly enjoyed the feeling of power that tingled through her with each awakening. Although he never noticed her in the weeks that lead up to his joining her, she knew that his complete attention would be on her from then on out.

Still, she watched him quietly from the side, moving only enough to enjoy the show, but not enough to catch his eye. He realized a little too late that he was covered only by the small, soft blanket that she had place over him, as his struggles caused it to slip off onto the floor. She couldn’t help but smile at the whimper that escaped through the gag around his mouth. Since she kept the workroom at a pleasant temperature, she wasn’t worried about him getting cold, but he still seemed upset about being stripped bare. His vulnerability pleased her as few things ever could. She had made herself vulnerable for him when she had first presented herself to him in public weeks before and now he proffered himself up to her, if not precisely willing, a gift nevertheless.

She and He and What Must Be – part four

He had slept peacefully throughout the first steps of her ritual, which did not escape her notice and earned him a measure of appreciation. Perhaps this time things would be different. There was always the chance that this one would realize his mistakes and lavish her with the attention that he had so long neglected. She slowly ran the wash cloth over his naked body, enjoying the firm planes and masculine angles that he had worked so hard to make perfect for her. When she was finished with the initial discovery and approval of the physical parts that he had kept hidden from her, she took a small blanket from a side table and draped it across his mid-section. Before moving to the other room and the next phase of her ritual, she ran her hand across his abdomen one more time – a small, lascivious grin curled the corners of her mouth as she bit down on her lower lip. If asked, she would be hard pressed to admit which phase was her favorite, but that one was near the top.

She and He and What Must Be – part three

It was an unexpected gift to find him sleeping on the couch several hours after his family had all gone to bed. With everyone else tucked away upstairs, she was able to move around downstairs, setting the scene as necessary, without alerting anyone or diverting from her plan. When she was ready she stood over him and watched him with a ravenous yearning that would have scared him had he woken up. Instead he continued to snore and appeared to be sleeping well enough, but she still placed the chloroform soaked towel gently, almost reverently, over his mouth and nose. He didn’t even so much as stir, which she found interesting considering the reactions of other lovers in the past.

With practiced ease she moved him to her customized hand truck, securing him with the attached belts, before moving him toward the garage. Propping him against a table, she took a last look around to be sure that she had left only what she intended to behind, grabbed the keys to his SUV, and wheeled him out to the garage, careful to close the door with barely a sound. She was thankful that he had the larger vehicle, which made transporting him much easier, plus added to the illusion that he had left of his own accord. Before long she was heading down the street, her prize securely hidden in the back, and an excited, almost child-like, grin stamped firmly across her face. As every time before, she had executed her plans with precision and professionalism so that she could truly relax and enjoy the stages ahead. She licked her lips in anticipation without even realizing that she had done it.

She and He and What Must Be – part two

Running her fingers over his favorite pen, she considered how he held it each day.  He picked it up from his desk blotter and applied it to whatever document he was working on without ever considering how miraculous and wonderful that pen truly was – much the same way he had passed over her.  She looked away from his ranting through his home, which she could clearly see through the large windows from her spot across the street, to fondle the pen and pay closer attention to it.  His hand had embraced that simple machine.  He often put the end of it in his mouth, touching it with his tongue or teeth.  She brought the instrument up to her nose, but couldn’t smell any traces of him, so she slid her tongue over the end.  She enjoyed the little flicker of excitement she felt tingle through her body at the idea of having her tongue where his tongue had once been.  Almost like kissing, she thought, as she flicked the end of her tongue over the tip of the pen and turned her eyes to once again watch her prey.  He had calmed down, retreating from his family to his office, and she watched him moving things around his desk.  Caressing the pen as if it were an extension of her lover, she bit hard on the tip of her tongue, drawing blood and wondered if his blood would taste the same.

 

(to be continued)

She and He and What Must Be – a tale told in parts

She watched him with more interest than she had had for any one thing in many weeks. He was fascinating as he flailed his arms about with all the bravado of an angry pheasant defending its territory. She could tell from his actions, despite not being able to actually hear what he was saying, that he discovered the missing items. The very same items that she had secreted away from his home that morning once everyone had left for their respective jobs and schools. Her left cheek ticked up a bit in her sardonic version of a smile as she saw him yell at his wife and point accusatory fingers at the older child. He would never suspect, which was likely his biggest undoing. Perhaps if he had noticed her even once over the last several weeks he wouldn’t be coming to the end of his life.

(to be continued)

A Writer’s Life For Me

(to be sung to the tune of “A Pirate’s Life for Me)

Yo lo, yo lo, a writer’s life for me,
Self publish & market & blog it & write,
Create new stories, you go!
Find others like-minded & get in real tight,
Create new stories, you go!
Yo lo, yo lo, a writer’s life for me,
Advertise wisely, submit for reviews,
Create new stories, you go!
Enjoy the adventure & write what you choose,
Create new stories, you go!
Yo lo, yo lo, a writer’s life for me,
Upload to my Kindle & see it in print,
Create new stories, you go!
Igniting their souls, my book is the flint,
Create new stories, you go!

Yo lo, yo lo, a writer’s life for me . . .

writers life for me

Written by C. L. Clark – all rights reserved

Walking Between Worlds

I think one of the most difficult things that I have to deal with on a daily basis is jumping back and forth between the various worlds that I inhabit.  Mind you, this is outside of the various hats that I wear.  I would imagine that most people have to change hats multiple times per day – spouse, sibling, parent, worker, customer, etc. – I know that flipping between work and home and house can be quite trying at times.  No, I am referring to the reality in which we all live and the various realities in my head.  Before you start dialing the funny farm for me, regardless of how good and accurate an idea that would likely be, I can explain in terms that will make me seem less schizophrenic.  Maybe.

Within each normal week day I rise at the crack of dawn and prepare myself to meet the public in my bill paying job.  I also must make sure my progeny are awake and moving themselves in a forward motion that will eventually land them at their respective environments of education.  There is breakfast and lunches to consider and fret about.  There are pets to attend to and last minute whatsits as well.  All the while, through each task, especially during the shower phase, my mind drifts to at least one of the other worlds bouncing about in my head – by that I of course mean various books that I have in production.  Sometimes it’s just a matter of which one needs marketing and which one is coming up to some sort of advertising thing that I need to remember to double check.  However, more often than not, it is an unfinished novel that I am writing (apparently even when I’m not actually typing on it, since I often wake up in the middle of the night with parts playing in my head like my own personal movie) that dances around in my brain bringing characters together in interesting scenarios.

I have on more than one occasion been working at my desk (or in the shower or pulling weeds in my garden or making dinner or or or) when a character happens upon me and starts talking about things with me.  They can be quite demanding in their conversations, throwing out what they want and expect me to do for them.  They even argue with me that I am not giving them the stage enough or telling their story as they feel it should be told.  Thus, one minute I am dead-heading flowers in the backyard and the next I’m speaking out loud to Cassie, explaining why she has to deal with William despite how terribly unpleasant he may be.  I have noticed that the neighbors are giving me strange sideways glances now.

This can be particularly trying for me at work when I’m plowing through the payroll and Zeb taps me on the shoulder.  “Wait until my break” I tell him, but ultimately I am forced to stop what I’m doing, switch gears, and write down what he wants before I can finish that paperwork.  So, hop out of this reality, hop into that one, make some notes, hop back into payroll, when break time arrives hop back into my favorite reality, but only for a few minutes because someone needs something in the other reality.  Hop, hop, hop, oooo, I’m feeling either like a bunny or Dr. Who, I’m not completely sure.

One day I hope to be able to spend my days over there, talking with my friends, telling their stories and not have to bounce around like a rubber ball, but until then I need to make sure I’m focusing on which world I’m in at the time so that I don’t talk to someone from one that people from the other cannot see.  Know what I mean?book-history-writing-old-pen-antique

Hello world!

Here is the start of my new blog.  As soon as I get this all figured out I will have all sorts of links where you can see my various books, go to other places I am on the web, follow me, get freebies, and all that good stuff.

I’ll pour out my thoughts, answer any questions, and keep you up to date on what’s going on with my books, etc.

Keep an eye here, I promise it will get better!

Thanks for stopping by!

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