Passion's Invocation

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Passion's Invocation, Tuesday Teasers

01/20/2014: Fiona’s Firsts

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Fiona's Firsts

Fiona made a conscious choice, “So why am I questioning it now,” she wondered, “I wanted a break from being strong. Didn’t I?”

 

Sir Dante’s voice came through the door, slicing through her thoughts and striking her soul, “Bend over more. This is the last time you go out drinking and forget to call me. I was worried sick, Fiona.”

 

She bent gripping the edge of the bed, feeling guilty and completely out of her element. “I run a friggin’ company. I give orders to men,” she warred with herself, “and I never thought he would actually… Ouch! Fucking hell! God damn it,” Fiona screamed as the crop landed sharply, scoring her perfect ass.

 

He took a seat, dragging her over his knee by her hair and slid his hand between her thighs. She was soaking wet. Dante smiled in the darkness, “Repeat after me, “I will not fail you again, Sir. I surrender.”

 

Fiona hesitated, uncertain if she wanted to cry, slap him hard, or beg for more. “I will n, not, ohhh, owww…shit,” she paused to rub her scorched bottom. He wrenched her hand behind her, whipped her again, and snaked two fingers into her wetness. She stumbled over the words while he enjoyed tormenting her. One more fall of the crop made her she scream them loudly.

 

Dante held her closely then, kissing away her tears. They made love like never before. Her words were no longer forced. Fiona repeated them like a magical incantation, whispering, “I surrender,” until climax forced their surrender to each other.

By Wildfire8470

© copyright 2014-01-20 07:22:58 – All Rights Reserved

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Charlotte’s Vow

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Charlotte’s Vow

1-17-2014 Charlotte's Vow

Char had always been a dreamer and sort of a mystic. Ours were typical stories:  Abusive families, rebellious teens, running away together and turning to prostitution to stay alive.

 

We made a pact that day. We vowed to take care of each other from that day to the grave. She gripped my shoulder saying, “Beyond the grave!” She vowed that if she died first, she’d find some way to let me know she’s still with me.

 

Immediately after the fact, an unmarked package arrived. When opened, the contents wafted thru my fingers like fog, whispering my name… and I just knew.

 

By Wildfire8470

© copyright 2014-01-17 06:39:06 UTC – All Rights Reserved

My Pen Name: Wildfire8470  is COPYRIGHTED and so are the associated writings and Logos.
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Passion's Invocation, Thursday Tasters, WiP Excerpts

Thursday Tasters 1-16-2014 Slightly Skewed-War Games

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An excerpt from:

Working Title: Slightly Skewed

Slightly Skewed-Small(c) All  Rights Reserved – 22:39 1-15-2014

Blurb:

This is written in the voice of Emmaline, who has attempted suicide and, consequentially, become committed to a mental health facility. After finding fault with the treatment she and her group of friends “on the inside” receive, she unwittingly becomes the ringleader of a band of rebellious girls who believe they have a cause to fight for and a point to prove. They call their rebellious efforts “War Games.”

NOTES:

Big B is Belinda, a tall, large-boned woman who is the nurse. Goon is short for “Rent-A-Goon,” a nickname that Emmaline gave her during admittance. She is a utilitarian guard or “rent-a-cop.” She is, on rare occasion, referred to as Na’, which is short for Nadine. Na’ and goon are one and the same.

 War Games

I heard the door leading into the hall open and shut. That was our cue. I cracked the door to my room and checked to see that big B and goon were both gone. Helen did exactly as we had discussed. She left her room and wandered down the hall with eyes on the ground. She entered the restroom and cracked the door to check the community room and front desk. I watched her heave a sigh of relief as she turned to me waving the all clear signal.

 

We ventured into the community room with trepidation. We had decided on our marching orders after lights out, then tossed and turned waiting to put our plans into action. When I saw goon’s face peering through the tiny window in the door, I knew action was moments away. It was all I could do to be still and wait for Na to finish night rounds. 

 

When I looked back, my girls were already behind me. My heart filled with warmth I hadn’t known I was still capable of. We padded toward the community room and slipped into the restroom with Helen. I extended my index finger whispering, 

 “Commencing War Games, Operation: Any Little Annoyance.”

We jammed our fingers together hard and then tiptoed into the community room. I was surprised that all four of us could move in virtual silence. 

 

For the first time, I’m glad for the butt-ugly hospital socks!

 

Danica took her post at the thick door-sill, behind the entrance, to listen and watch for B and goon. Marie sneaked behind the desk to search for CD-ROM’s and unmarked disks. 

 

Helen manned one of three computers, armed with my list of web addresses. I ventured into a room behind the front desk that I’d noticed only a day ago. It was a back office. 

 

I’ll be damned. This must be the friggin’ inner-sanctum.

There were several desks and it appeared quite formal, as though staff and department heads must meet here in secrecy. Scanning the room, I discovered two busts. They were blue with gears emblazoned around their skulls. I memorized the office as best I could, and with my heart pounding, stepped out and shut the door.  

 

Helen and Marie had already found a blank disk and downloaded the sounds and pictures I requested. Helen handed the disk to me. I shoved it into one of my hospital socks as I caught Danica’s eye. She pointed back to our rooms, motioning frantically. All of us moved swiftly and closed our door silently just as B and goon returned. 

 

I pushed Helen, in her cartoon dog PJ’s, into my bed and against the wall. I leapt in behind her, arranging pillows and blankets to hide her. To prying eyes it would look like I was alone, with covers pulled up and one arm slung across the heap. 

 

An hour later, goon’s ugly mug peered through the window and I watched her shadow pass by again, as she returned to join big B in the front office. I waited several minutes, until I could hear the drone of Na and B talking over coffee. I let go a heavy sigh and realized I’d been all but holding my breath.  

 

All of us merged silently into our circle at the back of the room, away from the fluorescent light barely whispering through the window. I waited for several minutes while our eyes adjusted and then raised my finger, laughing quietly, “Success!” 

 

My girls followed suit and we sat together in silence, holding hands for a moment, though we were anything but quiet. There in the darkness we bonded, squeezing each others hands and hugging each other wordlessly. Our minds buzzed with friendship, sisterhood, and shared elation; a feeling not one of us had experienced since our admittance here.  

 

As unlikely as it seemed, we were each others family now. I leaned back against the wall, smiling contentedly at having gained so much more than just turning the tables on the staff.  

 

Danica added to our ritual then, extending her finger into our circle. As we reached to touch her finger, she closed hers against her middle finger, forming a circle. We looped our fingers through Danica’s. This time, she did not ask. She softly stated what we all knew had just taken place, “Sisters.” 

 

It wasn’t a command, a question, or an order. It was a gentle admission; a softly spoken fact; one we were all extremely happy for. This was our wealth. In this place that was destitute of happiness and devoid of family, we had both in droves. 

 

Helen finally broke the silence, asking, “What’s next?” 

 

I grinned wickedly and pulled the disk from my hospital sock. I held it up and said, “Any little annoyance.” 

 

 A slightly confused silence followed, so I relented and explained, “I want them to experience what we did. When we came here, we were scared, confused, in need of explanation regarding what would follow; like our personal safety and how they protect it, how long the likely stay is, what the steps to ‘recovery’ are,” I said, making quotations in the air, “At least within the first two or three days here, those general courtesies should have been mandatory.”  

 

“Exactly,” Helen hissed under her breath. 

 

“All of us are here because we survived something unspeakable.” I continued, “At that point, information and kindness are no longer a luxury. They are necessities. Punishment is not the order of the day for patients being admitted.” 

 

“What Helen said,” Marie whispered in a low, angry tone. 

 

I went on to finish my thought, “Following the unspeakable, we were strip-searched, had our belongings taken and locked up, We got zero input, zero niceties, zero comfort in any form, zero explanation of what to expect, zero information period; no offer of anything from a cup of water to sitting down with a staff counselor, or anyone who could address our fears and worries. Not one person told us what to expect here!” 

 

“That’s exactly right,” Marie spat acidly. 

 

“For our terror and trouble, we got one humiliation and violation after another and “follow me,” only led to yet another mortification. They took our belongings, our already limited control and our dignity, along with our shoelaces! The cherry on the crazy parfait was ‘We earn our own keep around here. You’ll do well to remember that.’ I intend to feed them enormous helpings of crazy parfait and be as distant, aloof, and uncaring as they were and have remained.” 

 

Uneasy silence ensued while I let the memories consume me, and when I resurfaced, I knew what I had to do,  “I’m sorry, ladies. I didn’t realize I was still that upset. I’m going to take a revote for who’s in and who’s out. No one will be shunned if they want out. We’re sisters now.” 

 

I lifted my hand with trepidation and three fingers touched my own. 

 

“Are you absolutely sure,” I asked. 

 

Danica spoke first. “Yes, we’re sure. We all feel the same way.” 

 

Helen and Marie shared their admittance stories then, which closely mimicked my own, and I responded,  

 

“We finish what we started tonight at 4am break…”

By Wildfire8470

(c) copyright 2014-01-22 10:00:26 UTC – All Rights Reserved

Passion's Invocation, Stories That Need A Home

Of Possession and Dispossession

Of Possession and Dispossession

Clare

There was no win or lose in this decision. Keri couldn’t stay with Victor though leaving him was killing her. Still, there was no other choice. Her mind was made, if not her heart.  

“Why are you doing this,” Victor asked in stunned disbelief. 

“Clare. That’s why.” 

“Clare? What about Clare?” 

“How can I explain what you won’t hear or will twist to suit your argument?” 

“Don’t do this Keri. Leaving me won’t fix this.” 

 “Staying hasn’t fixed this and it’s killing me.”

“Wait a minute. Just stop and explain this to me,” Victor asked. 

Keri paused and went to the window. Painful silence filled the spaces between them as she stared out at the distant moon. She gathered her thoughts and battled for control of rioting emotions.

After a moment to collect, she spoke the first words that came to her; words she never wanted to speak of again, “Don’t ask for things you can’t deal with, Victor. This is your out. I strongly suggest you take it.” 

Victor said nothing, not wanting to push her over the precipice of the emotional cliff she was obviously teetering upon.  

Keri continued, “Your wife has been deceased for more than a decade and you are still one.” She paused awaiting his inevitable denial. 

“Keri,” Victor tried to make her see how unreasonable she was being, “How can I make you see? You’re jealous of a dead woman,” he accused. 

“No I’m not,” she snapped sharply, “Clare is very much alive and,” Keri concluded bitterly, “she is in you and of you. Clare is everything that comprises you. She lives in your thoughts and resides in your heart, where there never was any room for me.” 

“For Christ’s sake, Keri. Of course you’re in my heart,” Victor reasoned. 

“Shut up,” she cut him off angrily, “Just shut the fuck up! Because of you, I’m dying a million deaths! I’m hemorrhaging emotionally! My heart is bleeding out and it’s your fault! You pursued me. You accepted my heart among your other demands.” 

“Honey, you’re imagining all of this,” he stated with quiet incredulity. 

“Oh yea, right,” Keri argued flippantly, “I invested two years of my absolutely- alive heart, mind, body, soul and life in you; in loving you with everything I am, only to be crowded out by a ghost.” 

She retrieved her suitcase taking pains to stay out of Victor’s reach. He lay back on the bed holding his head with hands over his face.  

“Why is Clare an issue all of a sudden?” 

You think this was sudden,” she asked, infuriated, “You asked me to give you two years to get on firm footing. This was not sudden,” she yelled slamming her suitcase shut, “Sweet Jesus, I envy Clare!” 

“Envy,” Victor muttered his confusion into his hands. 

“Yes. Clare is dead! She feels nothing! Shit! I envy her that!” 

“I asked you to give me two years and I made a home for us,” Victor stated the obvious, trying to maintain dulcet tones while untangling her rage. 

“No. You didn’t. We found a place to live in together, where we exist around each other,” Keri stopped the torrent of words to follow, struggling to regain self-control. She knew this battle was over long before it began, before she had ever crossed Victor’s path, much less his mind. 

Victor patted the bed saying, “This is where we lay together, the place where we express our love for each other.” 

Keri sat next to her travel bag exhausted, “I thought so once.” 

“You don’t think so now?” 

“No.” 

“Why not?” 

“It’s obvious that my love for you is not enough,”

“To do what?” 

“To exorcise her from your soul, from all that you touch, breath, think, feel, are… prefer.” 

“I’m lost. You’re not making sense, Keri. Give me an example.” 

“You persistently run from reality to hide in Clare’s possession of you. For instance: When was the last time we made love that you weren’t thinking of her?” 

Victor lay silently stunned. He had no idea that Keri felt his very thoughts, and not just in bed, in everything.  He dragged his hand through his hair remembering all the times he had looked into Keri’s eyes, how frequently her soft smile had touched his heart, how many times she had held him or they had made love, while all he ever felt or saw was Clare.

It was Clare’s eyes he had looked into so deeply, her smile that Keri’s resembled so. It was Clare’s arms that held him close and her body he had loved so intensely. Keri kept her silence for two years, giving him the space and time he had asked for. Victor was acutely aware of her pain and frustration, leaving him ultimately in the wrong and If it could get any worse, it did.

Both knew it wasn’t exactly his fault, neither asked for what they had gotten. Keri knew as well as Victor, that he was well and truly possessed. Had it been less than his true love, Keri would have called out the clergy to exorcise his demon faster than he could blink.

“You see,” she said, interrupting his thoughts, “I’m no good at ménage à trois and you’re a man in love with a corpse; a spirit that can do no wrong; an eternally perfect ghost. That’s a competition I can’t… no, won’t live with any longer.” 

“Wait,” he implored softly, “Don’t leave.”  

“And stay for what,” Keri questioned, “You have immediately, and permanently, turned down any and all help that I’ve offered to get for you, or assist you in getting for yourself.  Apparently, you are happy living in your misery.” 

“No, Keri, I mean, I just realized. I never meant to…” 

“Apparently, you never meant anything,” she laid her cards, face-up, on the table.

“Keri, stop. We can work on this. Don’t leave. Not now.” 

“‘Not now?’ As though penciling it in later would be better? Maybe Clare has no expiration date, but I do.” 

“I didn’t realize what I was doing, but now that I know we can start over,” He reached to extract the bags from her. 

Keri moved to dodge him, whispering, “Maybe you can. I sure as hell can’t.” 

She stood in the doorway wanting to drop everything and run back into the safety of his arms but she already knew with certainty, anything she’d felt in his arms never belonged to her.   

“Why would I,” she wept, “Start over letting you love her and you use me like some morbid conduit,” she stated more than asked, hauling her belongings from the bed. 

Victor followed her to the door hoping for one last chance; hoping for words that would convince her to stay, “I love you, Keri. Yes, I’m always going to love what I had with Clare, but I love you!” 

 “Oh, you think so?” 

“I know so.” 

“Guess again, Victor. Do you remember, before we lived together, when I busted my ass and my bank account to fly across the country to see you?” 

“Yes. It was great.” 

It wasn’t,” Keri yelled, losing her tenuous grip on self-control, “It was a God damn, unmitigated disaster!” 

Victor was holding onto the very end of his rapidly fraying rope, “That’s not how I remember it. We spent the whole week together.” 

“Yes, we spent the week doing anything you could think of to please you. I rented a car. I drove your sorry ass all over town. I paid for everything and you still weren’t happy. You were hell-bent-determined that nothing short of Clare’s resurrection was going to make you happy. Also,” she screamed, completely unraveling and unable to stop now, “I asked you about the social site you’re on.” 

“What? What about it now,” he yelled back at her. 

“I gave you two years that you asked me for. You couldn’t wait two days until I was at least on an outbound flight, before befriending a skanky slut. I found out after I’d twisted myself into a pretzel trying to please you. I wish I’d known it was as easy as dying my hair and posting an ad for a smarmy, sickening  affair!  

“You are! You’re jealous and you don’t trust me,” Victor couldn’t have chosen a worse time for denial and childish accusation.

Say that just one more time and I swear I’ll knock you onto your lying ass so hard you’ll never stand up again! Your actions always spoke louder than your words, Victor and they were always in direct opposition.” 

“Nothing happened! I swear I never met the girl!” 

“Doesn’t matter. What do you think that did to me? You said you hadn’t even been on the site. You lied. So what the fuck else have you lied about? In my shoes, would you trust you? If your daughter asked for similar advice, what would you tell her? I gave you two years. I was woman enough to keep my word. My obligation is over.” 

Keri opened the door and half-turned back to finish, “It’s not lack of love, Victor. Between your lies, Clare’s presence, and your terror of our real, live relationship, I didn’t see that I was the only one in it. So go now. Run away. Fuck the skanky slut. Fuck a million of them. They’re all Clare anyhow. I’m setting you free with fierce pity for any woman who ever falls in love with you. Goodbye, you two. I now pronounce myself dispossessed.” 

 

By Wildfire8470

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© May 08, 2015 – 03:50 AM – All Rights Reserved
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DISCLAIMER:  Any similarities to any person(s) living or deceased are strictly coincidental.

 

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#breakup #drama #dispossessed #diverse #diversebooks #fiction #ownvoices #shortstory #read #readers #relationship #ghost #lostlove #widower #surrogate #substitute #possessed #possession

Passion's Invocation, Tuesday Teasers

Her First Infraction

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Her First Infraction

The night was going to be a badly needed reunion with her best friend. Daphne felt that she had come into her own this year and was eager to celebrate as only two sisters can.

 

She was madly in love with Aidan and he with her. They took up residence together only one month prior. It wasn’t the collar or the proposal she had hoped for, “but it’s a good start,” she grinned into the makeup mirror.

 

Aiden wrapped his arms around her from behind, kissing her neck in the places that drive her crazy. With every kiss, he asked for her word, “Promise you will call if you’re going to be late… or you know what the punishment will be.”

 

“Yes, Aiden, I will,” Daphne smiled wondering if he would actually follow through on his threat to spank her, even as she prepared to test his mettle. Just the thought kept her in hot debate. She zipped her travel bag as Aiden hesitantly left the room.

 

Daphne lifted the phone and dialed her friend, “Hey Chloe, I’m all set! Can I stay in your guest room tonight?”

 

By Wildfire8470

© copyright 2014-01-14 07:52:58 – All Rights Reserved

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