Craft a scene/chapter/story that takes place in the back seat of a limo -- a conversation between a blackmailer and his/her victim. All in dialogue.
Happy writing.
rose
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Craft a scene/chapter/story that takes place in the back seat of a limo -- a conversation between a blackmailer and his/her victim. All in dialogue.
Happy writing.
rose
I had some fun with this. I'm going to take your earlier suggestion from my last assignment, though, and wait a little to post it and give myself a chance to properly read and edit it from the editor's, rather than the writer's, perspective.
I felt like I got perhaps a little too explicit with some of the circumstances surrounding the blackmail. The "victim" is so sick and twisted that this is probably not a story I would be permitted to post in the library itself. I hope it won't be too much for the writers block. It was, however, a very compelling circumstance for a piece involving blackmail.
you have me quite intriqued already. Looking forward to it.
rose
"That guy over there, the one with the navy blue sport jacket getting on the sidewalk. Pull up right next to him, and leave the rest to me. When he gets in the limo, turn up the radio, drive us around town for ten minutes with the radio volume up high enough that you can't hear our conversation, and trust me, you'll sleep better at night not knowing what we talk about. At the end of that ten minutes, I want you to have this limo outside the same building you picked me up. I don't want anybody to hear or see anything. Got that?"
"Yeah, lady," the driver grumbled.
"You'll be well paid in cash. When this is over, you won't be complaining. And remember, you know nothing about what happens in the back seat of your limo." She opened up the door, reached out and grabbed Robert's arms from behind, pulling his startled body into the back seat of the limo before closing the door. Robert spun his head around.
"Jesus Christ, Samantha! What the fuck were you thinking? How the hell was I supposed to know it was you grabbing me from behind like that, and pulling me into this limo?"
"You weren't." Her response was cold but simple. He eyed her suspiciously. She spoke slowly and deliberately. "And while we are on the topic of things you aren't supposed to know how I know, I know exactly where you were last night, Robert."
"Oh yeah? Where was I?"
"You were doing the rounds at the hospital in the children's ward."
"So, that's where I was assigned last night."
"Oh, I know how much you like that particular job the best, looking at all the children as they sleep, but you weren't just looking, were you? And with the hospital gowns, it was all the easier for you, just to lift up the gowns, and cop a feel between the legs of drugged up and sleeping boys and girls. You must have been in heaven, putting your hands on the boys' penises and stroking them, making them hard as pencils, rubbing them, watching their breathing to make sure they weren't going to wake up anytime soon. Do you like watching a small boy have an orgasm even if he can't ejaculate?"
Robert turned pale. "There was nobody else there! How the fuck do you know about this?"
"And with the girls, lifting up their hospital gowns and reaching under them and touching their bottoms, sticking your fingers in and rubbing their little ass holes before moving your hands between their legs as you gently caressed them, rubbing your hands back and forth across their young pussies. Do you like the softness of little girl pussy? Maybe the color as you rub it? And what exactly is it like for you to stick your penis inside of young girls? Does that make you feel good?"
Robert opened up his mouth enough to squeak out, "How?"
"You wanna know how I know? My daughter has been there all week. She had an operation that was expected to require some substantial recovery time. My nephew broke his leg on the soccer field the other day and has been in there having his wounds tended to. Both of them were sound asleep when you came into their rooms, and both were terrified when you left. I've talked to some of the other children in the hospital, with their parents' permission of course, and I know they weren't your only two victims."
Robert was visibly shaking. "S-s-s-s-s-so what the f-f-f-f-f-fuck do you want?"
Samantha smiled wickedly. "You've got a pretty steady job there, pays well, gives you what you want, and a fantastic reputation. But you asked what I want. I want one of three things." She reached into her purse, unsheathing a large knife. "I want you dead." She pressed the knife against his throat. "Bastards like you don't deserve to live." She pressed with slightly more force, drawing blood, just barely piercing the skin. "But I'm feeling nice today. That leads me to your second choice. I could tell everybody in this whole fucking country what you did to my daughter and my nephew, and I know damn well they weren't your only victims. I've heard that child molesters don't tend to have a very long life span in prison." She put the knife away and began fondling him between his legs, eliciting an erection from him. "Or, you could agree to be my sex slave for the rest of your life, doing exactly as I say. If you make this choice, and you ever renege, I will have both your reputation and your life in my hands. So what's it gonna be?" She continued to caress between his legs as she waited for his answer.
"Well, uhm, uh," he stammered, having difficulty separating his thoughts from her hands.
"A man's mind is not easily detached from his penis, so maybe I can help you decide here," she said as she unzipped and unbuttoned his pants.
"Wha-wha-what are you doing?"
She reached into his underwear, cupping his scrotum in her hands. "Just giving you some --" She squeezed his testicles in her hands as tightly as she could, causing him to shriek in pain and his body to convulse. "Incentive," she finished the sentence.
"Alright, alright! I'll be your fucking sex slave!"
"You will not be my 'fucking' sex slave. You will be my sex slave. You will do exactly as I tell you whenever and wherever and for whatever reason I say. Understand?" She squeezed his testicles again for extra emphasis.
"Yes!" he shrieked, about three octaves higher than he first began this conversation.
"Good. Rule number one: You will not cum until I tell you," she said as she began stroking his manhood as quickly and roughly as she could, causing him to cum all over her hands. "Did I say you could cum?"
"No."
"Right." She squeezed his testicles again. He howled pitifully in response. "Any time you do not obey, this will be one of your punishments. Understand?"
"Yes! Yes! I understand!"
"Rule number two: you will always call me Mistress. Understand that one too, big guy?"
"Yes! I understand!"
"So soon you have forgotten?" She squeezed his testicles again sharply.
"Yes Mistress! Yes Mistress! Shit Mistress, that hurts!"
"Rule number three: you will not use vulgar language in my presence." She squeezed his testicles once more.
"Mistress, please! Owwwwww!"
"Rule number four: you will thank me for each of your punishments."
"Yes Mistress! Thank you Mistress!"
"Rule number five: your money is my money."
"Yes Mistress!"
"Very good." She released her grip on his scrotum. "Now pay the limo driver eight hundred dollars for his efforts tonight. I'll see you inside, apartment 317. If you keep me waiting too long, well, let's just say you won't want to find out what would happen." She opened the door of the limo and got out, leaving the door ajar.
"For Christ's sake! Thats my whole fucking paycheck this week." He counted and handed the money over to the limo driver who smiled back at him. It was far more than the usual fare the driver would have charged for such a short trip.
The driver said, "It was a pleasure doing business with you. Have a good day, sir."
Robert pulled up his underwear, zipped his pants, still feeling a strong aching between his legs, and got out of the limo, slamming the limo door closed. "Fuck it all to hell!" he shouted as the limo drove away and he headed up the stairs to Samantha's apartment.
i have seen this and will try to get to it this afternoon or tomorrow.
rose
Monday morning, i promise. The weekend snuck up on me.
rose
Like I've said to you before, Rose, I appreciate that you are even taking the time at all to do this. I hope I'm learning at least a few things in the process. (I think I am.) Life, well, it's just life. It often gets in the way of things we want to do. Whenever you get around to it is fine, really. I'm quite thankful for any help I can receive along the way.
I have read this and I intend on getting to a proper dissemination soon. I intend on giving Muse her say on the grammatical items since she is far more qualified than I am to do so. I will destroy the rest, as is my penchant.
Actually, other than the ease with which Robert accepted his situation I have few obvious complaints. Then again, it is short and sweet.
Nicely done. Watch your wordiness though.
*You don't have to tell your reader things that they can gather themselves.
*What does not add to your work, detracts from it.
I'll get your next assignment up today or tomorrow.
Quote:
Originally Posted by underwhere
and she is usually right on the money with them too. I have quite a penchant for wordiness and explanation, as she pointed out in her review of this piece (and she has mentioned it in my other pieces too). That might, perhaps, be more of an inherent problem with me personally than with my writing. I've always needed things fairly well spelled-out for my benefit. Maybe I just need to get used to the idea that other people don't need the same level of explanation I do. As my writing is a work in progress, in some ways, so am I. :)Quote:
Originally Posted by H Dean
I guess what I was going for, and maybe I didn't communicate this as effectively as I had hoped, was that he was simply shocked at being discovered and was therefore unable to really deny or complain because he couldn't even think to deny or complain. In fact, to do so didn't even enter his thought processes. I agree that it might be more believable if he fought just a bit more.Quote:
Actually, other than the ease with which Robert accepted his situation I have few obvious complaints. Then again, it is short and sweet.
So I guess I'm left with two choices here:
* enhance the expression of Robert's shock to make it more clear that he was unable to formulate a denial to the accusations or a complaint to the resulting situation. I'll have to consider how effectively I can do this given the constraints of the assignment being in all dialog.
* have Robert try to offer a denial or complaint
My instinct about Robert as a character is that this was his "deep dark secret that nobody was ever going to know anything about". When such things are discovered about people, denial is often what results, but shock and the resulting "paralysis response" seems equally plausible to me.
Can you offer any suggestions for how I might try to enhance his "shock to the point of paralysis" to the reader so it comes across as more believable? I'm just not sure that "denial" is in Robert's personal vocabulary.
As always, all comments and suggestions are welcome. I am here, after all, to try to improve my writing skills.
"That guy over there, the one with the navy blue sport jacket getting on the sidewalk. Pull up right next to him, and leave the rest to me. When he gets in the limo, turn up the radio, drive us around town for ten minutes with the radio volume up high enough that you can't hear our conversation, and trust me, you'll sleep better at night not knowing what we talk about. At the end of that ten minutes, I want you to have this limo outside the same building you picked me up. I don't want anybody to hear or see anything. Got that?"
"Yeah, lady," the driver grumbled.
"You'll be well paid in cash. When this is over, you won't be complaining. And remember, you know nothing about what happens in the back seat." She opened up the door, reached out and grabbed Robert's arms from behind, pulling him into the limo. Robert spun his head around.
"Jesus Christ, Samantha! What the fuck were you thinking? How the hell was I supposed to know it was you grabbing me from behind like that, and pulling me into this limo?"
"You weren't." Her response was cold but simple. He eyed her suspiciously. She spoke slowly and deliberately. "And while we are on the topic of things you aren't supposed to know how I know, I know exactly where you were last night, Robert."
"Oh yeah? Where was I?"
"You were making rounds at the hospital in the children's ward."
"So, that's where I was assigned last night."
"Oh, I know how much you like that particular job, looking at all the children as they sleep, but you weren't just looking, were you? And with the hospital gowns, it was all the easier for you, just to lift up the gowns, and cop a feel between the legs of drugged up and sleeping boys and girls. You must have been in heaven, putting your hands on the boys' penises and stroking them, making them hard as pencils, rubbing them, watching their breathing to make sure they weren't going to wake up anytime soon. Do you like watching a small boy have an orgasm even if he can't ejaculate?"
Robert turned pale. "There was nobody else there! How the fuck do you know about this?"
"And with the girls, lifting up their hospital gowns and reaching under them and touching their bottoms, sticking your fingers in their little assholes before moving your hands between their legs as you gently caressed them, rubbing their young pussies. Do you like the softness of little girl pussy? Maybe the color as you rub it? And what exactly is it like for you to stick your penis inside of young girls? Does that make you feel good?"
Robert opened up his mouth enough to squeak out, "How?"
"You wanna know how I know? My daughter has been there all week. She had an operation that was expected to require some substantial recovery time. My nephew broke his leg on the soccer field the other day and has been there. Both of them were sound asleep when you came into their rooms, and both were terrified when you left. I've talked to some of the other children in the hospital, with their parents' permission of course, and I know they weren't your only two victims."
Robert was visibly shaking. "S-s-s-s-s-so what the f-f-f-f-f-fuck do you want?"
Samantha smiled wickedly. "You've got a pretty steady job there, pays well, gives you what you want, and a fantastic reputation. But you asked what I want. I want one of three things." She reached into her purse, unsheathing a large knife. "I want you dead." She pressed the knife against his throat. "Bastards like you don't deserve to live." She pressed with slightly more force, drawing blood, just barely piercing the skin. "But I'm feeling nice today. That leads me to your second choice. I could tell everybody in this whole fucking country what you did to my daughter and my nephew, and I know damn well they weren't your only victims. I've heard that child molesters don't have a very long life span in prison." She put the knife away and began fondling him between his legs, eliciting an erection from him. "Or, you could agree to be my sex slave for the rest of your life, doing exactly as I say. If you make this choice, and you ever renege, I will have both your reputation and your life in my hands. So what's it gonna be?" She continued to caress between his legs.
"Well, uhm, uh," he stammered, having difficulty separating his thoughts from her hands.
"A man's mind is not easily detached from his penis, so maybe I can help you decide here," she said as she unzipped and unbuttoned his pants.
"Wha-wha-what are you doing?"
She reached into his underwear, cupping his scrotum in her hands. "Just giving you some --" She squeezed his testicles in her hands as tightly as she could, causing him to shriek in pain and his body to convulse. "Incentive," she finished the sentence.
"Alright, alright! I'll be your fucking sex slave!"
"You will not be my 'fucking' sex slave. You will be my sex slave. You will do exactly as I tell you whenever and wherever and for whatever reason I say. Understand?" She squeezed his testicles again for extra emphasis.
"Yes!" he shrieked, about three octaves higher.
"Good. Rule number one: You will not cum until I tell you," she said as she began stroking his manhood as quickly and roughly as she could, causing him to cum all over her hands. "Did I say you could cum?"
"No."
"Right." She squeezed his testicles again. He howled pitifully in response. "Any time you do not obey, this will be one of your punishments. Understand?"
"Yes! Yes! I understand!"
"Rule number two: you will always call me Mistress. Understand that one too, big guy?"
"Yes! I understand!"
"So soon you forget?" She squeezed his testicles again sharply.
"Yes Mistress! Yes Mistress! Shit Mistress, that hurts!"
"Rule number three: you will not use vulgar language in my presence." She squeezed his testicles once more.
"Mistress, please! Owwwwww!"
"Rule number four: you will thank me for each of your punishments."
"Yes Mistress! Thank you Mistress!"
"Rule number five: your money is my money."
"Yes Mistress!"
"Very good." She released her grip on his scrotum. "Now pay the limo driver eight hundred dollars for his efforts tonight. I'll see you inside, apartment 317. If you keep me waiting too long, well, let's just say you won't want to find out what would happen." She opened the door of the limo and got out, leaving the door ajar.
"For Christ's sake! Thats my whole fucking paycheck this week." He handed the money over to the limo driver who smiled back at him. It was far more than the usual fare for such a short trip.
The driver said, "It was a pleasure doing business with you. Have a good day, sir."
Robert pulled up his underwear, zipped his pants, still feeling a strong aching between his legs, and got out, slamming the limo door closed. "Fuck it all to hell!" he shouted as the limo drove away and he headed up the stairs to Samantha's apartment.