Friday, November 4, 2011

Man's Dominion

A Sample Draft of the First Novel I Ever Submitted to be Published

In a friendly challenge of Put Up or Shut Up here is a sample of the very first novel I ever submitted to a publishing company in the hopes of being published. It was rejected. One of the excuses I got was "We're sorry but the use of profanity is to prolific throughout your manuscript." In other words, I used the word fuck to much. I figured the sex would of been what got me rejected.

Which reminds me, The following sample is not safe for work viewing and you probably don't want to let a minor under the age of sixteen read it either.

Please enjoy and I will post more samples later.


Chapter 1

The hard wooden gavel banged upon the judge’s bench with the force of my impotent outrage surging through it like the lightening of Thor’s hammer slamming, crashing, striking down upon my life; forever changing it. Injustice thundered through the court room declaring the loss of my son.
“I did not agree to this!” I shouted as I stood up through sheer force of will alone. I had agreed to sign over custody of my son to get Children’s Services out of the picture. I had agreed to sign over my son under the impression that I would eventually be granted shared custody of my son. Instead I had been denied of all rights save those entitled by paying child support and even those were limited. My contact with my son had been handed over to my now ex-mother-in-law; the very woman who had conspired to take away my son.
“Mr. Dodson sit down now or I will hold you in contempt of court.” demanded the judge. “It is my ruling, as you have agreed to support your ex-wife’s petition for custody that it shall be awarded and your rights shall be limited as such accordingly. Furthermore, you will have no parental rights to your son, save those expressly stated here and lain out within the state’s statue and your visitation time will be reduced to two hours a week; supervised.” The gavel banged again ending the court session and my life as I had known it.
The sound of the gavel slowly rolled like thunder echoing through the court room tolling the sound of my defeat in the wake of what had been a reasonable compromise. I had lost everything that mattered to me in one final stroke of the gavel. I fought back the tears that threatened to wash away the last bastions of resolve. I looked at my attorney with a question of why and she would not return my gaze. She had sold out.
“I did what you people said I had to do! I played the game! I exceeded all expectations and demands! How is this?” I spluttered out in righteous indignation.
“Court is adjourned.” was all the judge had to say ignoring my please.
With a fury I shouted “Justice is not blind. She sees the color of money pretty damn well and the color is green.” I turned with the cold serenity of an expert killer, as a god holding the lives of those present in my hand and said, “May God have mercy on your souls for I will have none. There will be a reckoning and in His eternal grace you should pray and beg that He takes you before I do.” I expected to be arrested right then and there but I didn’t really care. No one seemed to really care. I can only imagine they were used to this sort of thing and since I made no direct action to harm any one they must have written it off as impotent ramblings of a bereaved man.
I flopped back down in my chair spent. I sat there stunned after the adrenalin of the initial anger washed from me. In frightening clarity the court room was burned into my mind; every detail made clear. Each face and name being filed away with precise accuracy, each mote of dust categorized, the judge had a small bit of cat fur sitting just above where her left nipple would have been if she were naked. The ex-mother-in-law’s hair was slightly off tint from a bad dye job. The ex-wife didn’t have herself settled in her bra correctly. The Guardian Ad Litem twitched slightly with a nervous tick of guilt bought only with corrupt money. My attorney continued to pack her things at a faster pace attempting to get away from me. The bailiff waited in relaxed tension like a spring fresh coiled. The church like pine pews standing guard behind me. The low quarter wall cutting me off from what was truth and what was reality. The wooden table, the mounds of files and documents supporting my cause became both my epitaph and my grave marker; the judge’s bench sitting as if some after life monument to my betrayal. I was numb. My emotions locked in raging battle and then frozen; all emotions frozen waiting, waiting for the last breath to be drawn to break loose and set right the wrong that had been done. The four horsemen of my soul road out waging war on all hope leaving behind a pestilence of unfathomable hunger killing the poor soldiers of misfortune guarding my heart. The events of the last few moments continued to play through my head like a bad mellow drama repeating over and over.
Surely this was some great joke I was not aware of; all my fighting and careful planning fallen apart. Where had I gone wrong? My compromises and sacrifices lay before me ruined like some desecrated grave. What had I done wrong? My cooperation used as a tool against me. Who had really been in on this? Had my attorney been in on it from the beginning or at some later point? How did I miss it? Did I just pay to give my ex-wife and her mother the power to legally kidnap my son from me? It seems I did.
I went out to diner with them taking the opportunity to see my son for what may be the very last time. My stomach turned as I ate my hamburger looking into their eyes and seeing their smug faces. Each time my ex-wife pretended like she was trying to involve me in my son’s current activities, as if they hadn’t just stolen him from me, violence raged within. An epic battle of control was fought as the demonic joy of ripping their still beating hearts out with my bare hands and grabbing my son and running contended with my personal ethical system. Which would win? This time ethics won.
I finally made it back to the place I used to call home. Now a home made nothing more than a shell; a tomb. I talked to a few friends online and shared with them what happened. As I typed the tides of emotions turned and despair, like a great tsunami, turned upon the rest and drowned them sputtering in futility. The despair would no longer be held back. I tried desperately to force it down. Focusing on anger, focusing on resolve, focusing on anything but the life threatening despair. I tried to chain it in the darkness of my soul but despair raged as a beast long hungered and loosed upon my soul; it did not work. There in my soul despair coerced resolve into uniting with it. There in the darkness of my soul they plotted my end. I began to shake. I began to cry. There upon my desk was a carpet knife. The blade sheathed. With a quick flip, the razor’s edge lay bare; inviting.
I spoke to myself; the first stages of insanity?
“I have never been pushed as far as I have been in this year emotionally.” I placed the boxer cutter blade extended on my wrist ready to draw it down my veins.
“It is odd that now in my greatest time of despair I remember what veins to cut so they will not be able to stop me from bleeding to death. Not that there is any one that would know before it is too late. My aloneness yet one more marker on the failure of my life, how nice it is going to be to slowly fade and not have to wake; all my problems will washed away in the red of my blood. How dramatic and fitting an end for a life of drama and failure.”
But every time I started to apply pressure something held my hand at bay. Why? I wanted it so much. I needed the slow release of my life. I didn’t want to live. Why couldn’t I die?
“Odd, I can not seem to do it? Is it the thought of my son stopping me? No, for now I have no son. They have taken him away from me. They have robbed me of my life so now why can’t I? What is stopping me?”
Something is telling me not to do this thing. Something is telling me there is a better way. I set the box knife down; despair at bay for the moment. Memories of an angel flood in on me and I spoke as if speaking to her; this illusionary woman.
“When I say you are my life I very literally mean that you are my life. You are the reason I am alive and you are the reason my son still has a father bent on getting him back.” Is this angel so strong that she can change my heart in a fluttering of wings?
As I talked to this non-existent woman my speech took on a past tense as if I were telling this story after it happened instead of it happening now. Was I slipping into madness? Was I already dead? Please let me be dead already.
“Each time I applied pressure a flood of memories would rush through. I remember the first. I remember thinking how lucky the man was that had you. I remember thinking how I wish I had a woman like you but corrected myself...I sinned that day and coveted my neighbors wife...I wished I had you. I remember your quick but silly wit in our verbal exchanges. I remember how bad it hurt for me to tell you that nothing could happen because of my circumstances. I remember the hatred I had for my marriage because here was the woman I should be with and I had trapped myself with the one I was with. I remember the way you laughed and smiled. How it gave a brief spot of happiness to my nightmare of a life.” the moment of strange future tense having passed I placed the blade back on my wrist.
I began to loose the battle again; I felt the pressure of the blade
a little more keenly and more fiercely did the memories of this illusionary woman come to mind. Again my mental speech assumed the past tense of if these events had already happened. Again I wondered if I were already dead. If some how this was my punishment for suicide; visions of the happiness I would never have.
“When we first declared our love, the first touch of your lips, the feel of you between me, around me, on me, and the touch of your skin and the smell of your hair, simply holding you attacked the despair as angels of vengeance swarming the gates of hell to free my soul from its bonds.”
A moment of clarity taunted me. The blade tasted my wrist again. Then there was one last final battle and the blade nearly pierced my skin I was shaking so hard from the internal struggle but there was this illusionary woman again and the passion she so rout in my soul, the illusions of a love I had never had. One last time the past speech spoke in my head. Insanity finally became my companion?
“The passion of our love making, the feel of me inside of you, how much pleasure it gave me to feel you quiver with ecstasy beneath me asking me for more; calling my name with passion filled love saved me. How it felt to explode inside of your welcoming body. There was only the longing to be with you, to be in you, to be connected to you on physical, spiritual, and emotional levels all at once. That the pressures of your body, the desire that lights your body, the attraction, the need I have for you is because of love not the way you look; though your body haunts my dreams at night with whispered promises unfulfilled because you are not here. With the strength of the memories of you I flung the knife from me.” I did what I told the illusionary woman I had already done and feel into my bed lost in my despair. Weeping like a small child for its mother.
I lay there crying curled into a fetal position willing my life to end, and getting closer with each ragged slowing breath; some reserve of strength drove me to make a phone call. I called this girl I had been seeing off and on since the separation from my now ex-wife. Neither one of us was ready for a real relationship but in each others arms and in the lusty passion of each others bodies we found moments of comfort; of satisfaction.
“Hello?” comes her voice across the phone.
“They took my son.” I said between ragged breaths.
“I’ll be there as fast as I can. Hold on until then ok?” she said pleadingly.
“I will.” was all I could get out.
I drug myself to my door and unlocked it. For a moment I hesitated looking at the kitchen drawer with all the knives but held despair at bay a few moments longer. Still shaking I made it back to my bed and there I cried. I cried as if a life of hurt and anger were being released. I cried like I have never cried before. I cried as if a god seeing its creations full of sin; despairing what should be done. The tears came from what seemed a bottomless well. Then it stopped. I lay there dosing when I felt a gentle touch on me. I felt a warm body crawl into bed next to me and I felt firm naked breast against my back.
At five foot four inches my companion was every heterosexual male’s wet dream; and a few lesbian females too. She was strawberry blond with perfect “C” cup breast with small pink nipples. When she breathed it was hard not to watch them. She had perfect hips to hold onto when having sex or simply just holding each other. She was athletically built without being muscle bound. She was soft and sensitive while being able to rough it up with the boys. The way she moved was simple seduction in action. Her eyes awoke lust in the most chaste of men; and she was mine. Why, because I really didn’t care about all of that. Hell yes I enjoyed the romps in the sack but it was the person that I was attached too. I had originally met her on one of those online chat websites and we had become instant cyber friends. At the time there was no place to load images. Then about a few days after my ex had run of with my son they added the ability to do so. We both put up our images and were shocked to see that we had been talking to each other in real life for some time. Her dad was a client of mine at this electronics store I was working at during the divorce interval. We had been flirting back and forth for a long time. Then after we realized who we were it seemed only right that we should go out; from that point we discovered we would be able to satisfy each others basic needs without the ties and complications of something more intimate. We lied to ourselves, we were there, we were intimate.
I laid there feeling her soft breath on my neck and her warm body pressed against mine. Something stirred in me but I ignored it in my recovering despair. I rolled over onto my stomach and she began to message my back. Her fingers applying gentle pressure, sensual touches releasing the tension locked within me. I felt the tension slowly begin to fade as another form of tension began to swell within us both. I could feel the warmth beginning between her legs as her naked body straddled mine.
“Don’t go to sleep on me baby. I’m gonna help you release it all.” she said in a slightly lust filled breath. I mumbled something and continued to enjoy her attentions on my tense muscles deliberately attempting to ignore the swelling between my legs. Finally the lust in me and the desire to see her straddled across my waist drove me to role over. As I did my manhood sprang to full erection. She lifted herself slightly to allow me easier movement and when I settled onto my back she grasp me firmly in her hands and began to stroke me with gentle attention raising my desire for her even more. I let out a sigh.
“You don’t have to do this.” I said even though I wanted her to go on. Sensing my need she continued slowly building speed and pressure. As I got closer she slowed down and began to slide down my body.
“You need release baby.” she said sympathetically with more lust in her voice than before.
“But what about you?” I asked truly not caring at this point as passion began to rule my thinking.
“These two will be quick and then the last will be so much better.”
“These tw….aaah…” was all I got out as her mouth surrounded my manhood and began to skillfully work to release the pressure within me. She slid me deep into her throat and in moments of the delightful sensation she began to swallow as my seed rocketed from me. She sucked each drop from me letting me soften in her mouth. When the blood flow left my member she slid back up my body straddling me with my cock placed firmly between her womanhood and my abdomen. She began to kiss me. Our tongues meeting in lust filled passion. I began to grow again.
When the lust of our kisses had completely hardened me again she looked at me and said, “Time for round two.” With a hungry look upon her face she slides me into her and it was as if fire wrapped around my penis threatening to consume it in a blissful blaze. She rode me harder and faster. Gentle moans escaping her lips. I held back grunting trying to let her have her own release before my own.
“Don’t hold back. Let it go. Fill me up.” she said between gasps.
“But nothing. Just shut up and do it.” she command. I surrendered to the sensations bombarding me and exploded inside of her.
She gently rode me slowly easing the last of my seed out of my spasm rocked manhood. I twitched inside of her still responding to the deliberate contractions of her vagina upon me.
“Yes, that’s it. Let it all out.” When the last drops were milked from me and I began to soften she lay down up my chest and gently rested there. I listened to her soft breathing as I slid out of her. I felt better but still I was not sated. She had replaced the despair in me with lust. The site of her back arching and sweat slowly dripping down her pert breast had awakened a carnal craving in me. One that craved to dominate her, one that demanded I assert my manly dominance over this willing host to my seed.
I wrapped my arms around her and she raised her head from my chest with an askance look. I pulled her mouth to mine parting her lips with my tongue. Our tongues battled in a dance of lust as I rolled her over. Her legs parted, willing extending an invitation to a long lost friend. As our lips pressed hard against each other filling the hunger of flesh I slid my hand down her body lightly caressing her smooth skin feeling her quiver beneath my touch. I stop just centimeters above her labia teasing ever so softly until I felt her push her hips up to my touch. I slid a finger lightly over her most sensitive spot slowly circling slipping another finger into her. I parted my lips from her and slowly kissed her neck nibbling ever so lightly until I get to her ear. Gently I blew into it with quiet whispers of passion. I took her earlobe into my mouth and bit down lightly thrusting a little harder with my finger and her body tensed. I trailed kisses down her neck once more until I reached her firm breasts. She arched her body towards my mouth as I sucked her erect nipple into my mouth. I began to twirl her nipple in rhythm with my fingers. I knew she was close and I quickened the pace. I felt her need for release increase and replaced my mouth with my fingers lightly caressing her nipples with my finger tips while continuing my attentions to her vaginal area. I moved to her shoulder where her secret erogenous zone was and bit down. She cried out and flooded my hand with her juices.
“Stop teasing me and give me what I want.” she said breathlessly shacking from a mini-orgasm.
I repositioned myself between her legs and she took me in hand guiding me into her. I started slow and gentle waiting for the tightness to easy to allow me deeper access to her most intimate chamber. When she felt ready I plunged deep and hard into her and she let out a lust filled cry. Our bodies rocked against each other driving each other ever closer to the edge.
A storm began to roll in. Clouds gathered as our sexual tension built begging for release. The rain began to fall heavily against the windows marking a light staccato to the rhythms of our passion. Lightening flashed illuminating our sweat soaked bodies shadowing the contracting muscles locked in lustful embrace. As the storm moved closer our pace quickened; bodies slamming against each other, her hips meeting my thrusts. Her cries of passion lost on the crashing thunder. Our hearts racing, our senses reeling, tension building, blood pumping, vision blurring, muscles tensing, one last flash of lightening chased by the crashing of thunder and she screamed out in orgasmic bliss clamping down on me. It was all I could take and I exploded pumping my seed deep into her as our hips ground together seeking every drop of pleasure we could. We lay spent and dosed off to sleep wrapped in each other passion soaked bodies as the rain gently lulled us to sleep.

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