Well, it's not Fallon but it is some one equally as horrible as Trystan. Request for crit is this way >>> -- Ladies of Lallybroch Literary Forum

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Date Posted: 14:17:59 08/24/09 Mon
Author: Esther
Subject: Well, it's not Fallon but it is some one equally as horrible as Trystan. Request for crit is this way >>>
In reply to: Esther 's message, "Another multi-purpose post" on 13:44:37 08/24/09 Mon

Okay, some thing I need to say before hand. This piece might be controversial. I suspect it might not be pleasant. But the plain fact is that Karma is a battered woman. Her husband did abuse her. And I think some of that needs to be addressed to get the motivation of her actions across in the right light, otherwise her choices will make her seem selfish and…and I can’t think of the right word, but she’ll appear in a sullied light. This scene deals with some of that. So here is my warning. At close to 4000 words long, this contains course language, violence, and suggestive scenes of an adult nature. If you would prefer not to read or comment, please don’t. This might not be every one’s cup of tea and I understand that.

Number two. My intent/purpose. When I posted the bit about Trystan, Page didn’t understand his actions and although I loved her analogy, Larn made the point that his behaviour should be obvious as a character trait and not bad writing. And so I said to myself, ‘Well Damon is kinda like that, and anyone at this stage in the story would have seen his behaviour, so I’ll just need to refer to that one incident.’ And Karma laughed at me, told me in no uncertain terms that I had sugar coated her situation, her husband’s behaviour and had left out one of the most important elements altogether. Great. I read what I had, and realized she had a valid point. Off to my deleted scene file. What I found in there was very explicit, and I had cut it because her actual abuse isn’t the point of the story. Overcoming it is. So…what I aimed for with this scene was something between too graphic and too vague. No sugar coating yet not skirting the issue because it might not be pleasant. Something to make the reader understand she endured his erratic behaviour/abuse in all its forms for years. What I’d like to know is how far off I am or if I’m on the right track.

Number three. The set up. This takes place years after she attempts suicide, yet mere weeks after she’s accosted in an alley and the stranger in her dreams protects her. She’s nervous, feels guilty, and is reminded of him every night when she closes her eyes, because this time the stranger’s presence in her world is real and this time she remembers him and doesn’t think of him as a delusion. Unfortunately, her odd behaviour has made her husband suspect something is going on with her, and of course, he can only assume its one thing.

And that’s it. Let’s meet Damon.

Excerpt from working title ‘Pander’
by E. M. Sawatzky © 2001-2009 All rights reserved.
Posted for critiquing purposes only and does not constitute publication.

Remember him? I couldn’t forget him. Here I sat, on the bed I shared with my husband, thinking of another man. Two weeks had passed since I woke up in the car, the locket clutched tight in my palm; my fingers stiff and half moons imbedded into my skin from my nails. I remembered everything, including the words he spoke when I blacked out.

I discovered I was capable of feelings. Guilt. Was he okay? Did he get away? I watched the news, worried about what the police found at the site, but the only report was that one was dead and gang activity was suspected.

“I’m a coward,” I whispered. Despite how terrible I felt, I could not go back to that street. It was easier to pretend it never happened. My thumb moved over the engraving on the locket I held in my palm. I could pretend, but I couldn’t forget.

In my fantasies he did dwell. If the ebony eyes haunted me during the day, by night they seduced. He invaded my dreams and left me trembling with want. Passionate kisses drugged my senses, lips brought me to release...

“What’s the matter with me?” With an angry curse, I hastened to my feet, and took the couple of steps to the dresser. “I don’t even know his name!” Or where he was buried. What I knew was that he’d been dead for a century.

With another curse, I looked at the clock on the bedside table. Damon would be furious if he came home and dinner wasn’t ready. I opened the jewellery box, stashed the locket under a couple worthless pieces, and then slid the earring tray over top.

My steps faltered as I came down the steps. In the kitchen, Damon sat at the table, a cracked beer in front of him. He reeked of perfume, smoke and booze, of an afternoon spent in the pursuit of lascivious consumption, and still he was home early. It was just after four, but his shift wasn’t over until five.

“Hi Damon. I didn’t expect you.” Nervous, I kissed him and then went about getting supper started. His icy stare didn’t waver or help with my unease. He didn’t even acknowledge Warren or Hannah when they came to greet him. I almost sank with relief when I heard the empty can hit the table and his chair scrape back on the floor. I released the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

With him upstairs, the tension eased, and I went about the tasks to prepare supper. At the kitchen table, the kids settled into their routine, with me helping Warren with his reading homework when needed and my encouraging Hannah to draw me a picture with her crayons. It was easy to pretend today was just another day. But the feeling of foreboding told me different.

“Okay. Chicken is in the oven. Potatoes are steaming and the vegetables are cut.” A quick swish of the dishcloth under the running water and the cutting board was clean. “Hannah, supper is just about ready. Clean up time. Pack up your crayons and put your paper away. You too, Warren. Put your book on the shelf where it belongs. And then you can help me set the table.” I picked up the knife to put in the dishwasher.

“Where did you get this?”

Startled, I turned away from the counter and stifled a cry when I saw Damon swing the locket on the broken chain. At first I felt guilty. Then violated. He had been searching through my personal things. Then realization hit; I became afraid. His intent had been to find something incriminating, and thanks to my stupidity, he had.

He took a step toward me. “Where did you get it?”

“Warren, could you take Hannah upstairs?”

“My crayons, Mommy!”

“I’ll put them away for you. You go wash up. Have Warren read you a story. I’ll call you when dinner is ready.”

My son took his sister by the hand and led her out of the room, the clutter left behind on the table. He knew this routine as well, and didn’t ask any questions or protest in any way. Later, when it was quiet, he would come to help me. I wanted to cry. Instead, I opened the dishwasher and placed the knife on the rack.

“Where Karma?”

The door closed, I turned to face my husband. “I…I’ve had it…” I stopped speaking when I recognized I was going to lie. The man, the stranger from my dreams, had come to me when I needed him and had protected me. After the demonstration of his courage, was I really going to belittle his efforts as if it wasn’t important? No. I couldn’t. It had cost him to come to my aid. I wouldn’t mock his integrity. “Someone gave it to me.” My chin went up in defiance. “A friend.”

“Which one? Gareth? Or Grey?”

“Grey,” I whispered, a shiver going up my spine. I met Damon’s furious gaze. “Gareth? What are you implying? I don’t know anyone by those names.”

He came toward me, his stride even. “If you said Gareth I might have believed you.” His thumb traced over the pulse in my neck, gentle, in a caress that was almost sensual. “But we both know you wouldn’t come up with a ridiculous name like Grey all by yourself and you wouldn’t have said his name like a lover.”

“I didn’t come up with it. I never heard it until you mentioned it.”

“Then explain to me, dear wife, why you’re restless. Why you toss and turn all night.” His fingers tightened on my throat, the pressure not enough to choke, but enough to get my attention. “Why you cry out those names in your sleep.”

Stunned, I couldn’t answer. Rather abruptly, he released me.

His calmness spoke of his fury, his demeanour a casual acceptance of yet another disappointment in his wife, when underneath it all, I imagined he was plotting to teach me my place. He opened the fridge door and took out another beer, sitting back in his chair at the table, nonchalant and as unconcerned as I was panicked and frightened. He tossed the locket down beside his beer.

I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how Damon would react. It was obvious he was angry. I didn’t know if he’d respond to me with violence or with the deceitful affection that would lure me into a sense of false hope. Not that it mattered. Whatever I chose would be the wrong thing so I stood there, backed up against the counter, waiting. The expectancy stirred up an anxiousness all on its own. I did nothing. I said nothing. Paralyzed, I just watched him drink his beer.

The clock ticking down the seconds counted time as it waited for Damon. When I thought I was mad for wanting him to just get on with it already, the empty can hit the table.

“You know Karma, I have thought many things about you over the years. But I never would have guessed a frigid bitch like you would commit adultery.” His gaze went to the locket, to the light shining off the surface. “What gives with that?”

“I told you. A friend gave it to me.” Despite the situation, and the awareness that today his quietness would result in a worse beating than if he’d let his rage out, I smiled.

“Ah yes. A gift from your lover.”

“He wasn’t my lover.” I saw Damon’s snide expression, his disbelief, and for the first time in ages, I felt the urge to stand up for myself. “But I wanted him to be. At least with him, I doubt I’d be beaten bloody or expected to have sex right afterward against my will.”

Damon only smiled. “You like it.”

“You like it. The rougher the better. The more hurt I am the better you like it.” I struggled to keep my voice even. “You get off on it.”

“You make me do it. You taunt me until I give you what you want. You force me to hit you, and then when I do you lay there before me, crying, and you tell me you love me. That you’ll never leave me.” He smiled. “You’re asking for it right now. You want me to make love to you.”

“There is no way I can express how loathsome you make me feel, how repulsed and degraded, when you make love to me. And I say I love you because you force me to say it. You demand the words I’d never speak on my own. If I don’t you hurt me some more.”

He shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “What can I say? Sex is better with you when you fight against it.” He took a swallow of his beer. “Now I know why. A slut like you needs to be dry. Not only does it make for a tighter ride, but I know I’m not coming in second.” He laughed at his own joke.

“I’ve kept my vows. That’s something you can’t say.”

“You want me to be faithful?” His eyes narrowed as if in contemplation. “Then give me what I want.”

“You hurt me. I can’t pretend to enjoy it.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “I hurt you? How?”

Embarrassed I couldn’t answer. “Never mind.”

“You brought it up. How am I to understand if you don’t talk to me?” With his foot, he slid a chair out in a gesture for me to sit beside him. “Come on baby. Talk to me.”

He sounded so sincere that I sat beside him. I took a deep breath. “You’re…forceful.”

“You mean rough.”

“Yeah. And you…”

“I what?”

I shook my head. “You rush through the motions, like you can’t wait to finish.”

“That would be the whole point.”

“But shouldn’t you…” I swallowed. “Shouldn’t you enjoy the whole thing?”

“The whole thing?”

“You know.”

“No. You tell me. What do you think the whole thing is?”

“You know…enjoying my body. Taking the time to get it to the same place you are.”

“Foreplay? You want me to take my time with you?” He smiled. “Hell Karma. I thought you understood once its up, it’s ready to come.”

“So what am I? Just some woman who happens to be available? Don’t you care about me at all?”

“Grow up Karma. Sex is not about childish feelings of love. It’s about physical release.”

“I wouldn’t know, would I?” I couldn’t sit there and face him anymore. I had to do something. I grabbed the oven mitts, and shoving my hands into them, opened the door on the stove under the pretence of checking the chicken.

Damon scraped his chair back, his steps soft as he approached. With me bent over, his hands gripped my hips and pulled me back against him. I closed the door, straightening with caution.

“So that’s what this is about? You want an orgasm?” His hands slid up, cupping my breasts, applying pressure until I leaned against him and felt the warmth of his body, the caress of his fingers on my nipples. Snuggled up to my back, he leaned close, his weight pressing me down against the top of the stove. His tongue traced the outer edges of my ear before he whispered to me in a seductive tone. “You want to come for me? You want me to treat you like the slut you are?” His fingers clamped down, pinching hard. “Come on baby, I’ll make you my whore.”

Revolted, I shoved back, my action surprising him to the extent I could slip out of his grip. “You’re disgusting.” I turned away, listening to his heavy breathing, and then when that quieted, to the silence, to the sound of him getting a beer out of the fridge, the distinctive pop of the can and finally to the imagined rustle of his clothes. He remained the six or so feet from where I stood. A quick glance showed him standing with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning a casual hip against the edge of the counter, watching me.

“What do you want from me, Karma? You tell me you want me to pleasure you, and then you push me away.”

“I don’t want to be fucked Damon.” The gloves came off, landing in a fit of anger on the counter.

“You just want to fight.” Damon made a rude sound in his throat. “And we both know you’ll provoke me until I do. You enjoy arguing with me, and you know sex always follows. Why should I believe you don’t want what I give you?”

“I don’t want to fight. Ever. And I don’t just want sex. I’m your wife. Not your whore.”

“Then what the hell do you want? Why can’t you tell me? I love you and would do anything for you but I don’t know what more I can do for you.”

“After all the years together, you don’t know me at all, do you?”

For the first time since he showed me the locket, his anger was evident in the clenching of his jaw. “Do you push your lover away like this too, Karma? Do you think it makes him care?”

We were back to this. “I don’t have a lover.”

“He’s just using you.”

“You are the only one who uses me.” I puttered with the cut vegetables, arranging them on the plate.

“What we do is mutual.”

“What would you call last night?”

“What was wrong with last night?”

I faced him. “I told you no.”

“Uh uh. You said you were sore.”

“You insisted anyway.”

“Oh baby, I couldn’t help it. I wanted you so bad.” He smiled. “Besides I was considerate of you.”

I gapped at him, astounded despite myself. “How do you figure?”

“I knew you were uncomfortable, so I didn’t hold back.”

“Hold back?”

“Yeah, you know how I usually stop you? I didn’t last night. Even though I knew I’d come right away since you haven’t done that for me in a while.”

The smugness in his voice made me sick. “Of which I was thankful.”

His eyes narrowed, the only indication that my words offended him. “You enjoyed it.”

“Last night, despite how I felt, you forced me to my knees in front of you, held onto my hair and demanded I suck. I gagged through the whole ordeal.”

He laughed. “Why do you think it felt so good?”

“You’re a pig.”

“I’m a man who knows what he wants. You’re a stupid bitch that doesn’t. You think you don’t want it, yet when I apply just a little pressure, you give in.”

“What I want doesn’t matter. What you want is all that’s important. And according to you it’s on my knees with your cock in my mouth.”

He came toward me, a slow swagger of belligerence, stopping when I could feel his breath on my face. Then his hand lifted and went to the back of my neck, bringing me closer. I held myself stiff as his thumb brushed over my lower lip. His gaze followed its path. “Oh yeah baby, I readily admit I love you on your knees before me, waiting for me to give it to you.” His voice lowered to that suggestive whisper; his hips pressed aggressively against me and brought his erection tight to my body. “But a woman’s body has other holes Karma. Your mouth isn’t my favourite.” He smiled, a lopsided grin of indulgence. “When I’m through with you tonight, when you go to sit down you’ll be stretched enough to remember which one I prefer, and which one I’m going to have as often as I want, whenever I want, whether you’re sore or not.”

Damon raised his gaze, waiting until he was sure I received his message, and then he released his hold, stepping back as if he hadn’t threatened me with sodomy. I didn’t doubt he meant every word or that I’d be sorry. He enjoyed it when we fought with words just as much as when he used his fists. To him, this was foreplay. I tried to twist away, but his grip on my shoulders prevented me from turning away from him.

His hands slid down my arms, restraining me until I accepted his touch, before they crept around my waist in a mockery of an embrace. “Tell me, wife, do you give him what I have to take? Do you give him head when you won’t come near me? Does the thought of screwing another man make you wet?”

“Stop it.” I started to struggle against his hold.

“Do you tell him to stop when he wants your ass? Does he fuck you from behind, or does he like to watch your deceitful face? Does he go slow enough to give you the orgasm you withhold when you’re with me?”

“Stop!”

“Not until you admit to your affair.” He took a breath and relaxed his hold, allowing me to escape. “Deny it all you want, but you’ve been dreaming of two men.” His lips curled in a smile. “Perhaps you haven’t been lying. You don’t have a lover, you have two.”

“Yeah, that’s it, Damon. I enjoy the humiliation so much I double the pleas—”

It took a second for me to get my balance back; grabbing onto the counter for support I stayed on my feet. Damon wiped the blood from by lip with a gentle touch. “You dare mock me? You dare fuck around after all I’ve done for you?”

One look in his eyes and I recognized the righteous indignation, the justifiable anger he felt prompting the violence. In direct contrast was the soft even voice in which he spoke, the openness of his body, the charming smile that had been my undoing. Under normal circumstances, I would cower when he was behaving like this. The calmer he was the worse the beating. Each blow a strategic message delivered as promised. With the most hurt, the most damage on the parts of my body covered by clothes. Today, I had gone too far. Liberated, I found I didn’t really care. Let him try.

I followed his lead, allowing myself to lean a hip against the counter in disinterest. “What’s the matter? Are you jealous that I’m getting it and you’re not? Or are you waiting for an invite? Is that why you’ve never gone down on me, because a man gave you a taste of co—”

My sight focused first. Then my hearing. Then the pain came as a sharp throb that split my head in two. Before I could test to see if there was blood, Damon hauled me to my feet and all but tossed me into my chair. He sat down opposite me and regarded me with an intense focus I found insulting. Another one of his attempts to intimidate me.

“I know what you’re planning, Karma.”

“Really?” It hurt to talk, and despite the pain, I tried to move my jaw back and forth. Both times he had held back; there was no gash in my mouth from my teeth. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“You’re going to leave me for another man.” He made a point of examining the locket, picking it up off the table and opening the clasp. “The one who gave you this. Which one was he?”

I leaned forward in my chair. I didn’t flinch from his stare. “Grey.”

Damon nodded. “I thought as much, given the way you say his name. Although, I must admit I’m disappointed. I thought you had better taste. The man you picked…? I can’t even pawn this.” He glanced up, met my gaze, which for the first time didn’t waver from his. “It’s a cheap, wore out piece of crap and of no value to anyone.” He started laughing. “Just like you. Here. I’m sure you earned it.”

He pushed it across the table. Daring me to take it.

I did, and when I raised it to my chest, revealing how much it meant to me, the chain seemed to wrap itself around my wrist in a protective grip. “Why are you letting me keep it? Why not destroy it like you have everything else that meant anything to me?”

“You really are stupid aren’t you? Think about it. If I let you have it, you can look at it every day and grieve the loss of him. You’ll look at it know the only reason you have it is because of me. One day you will realize you can never leave. You belong to me Karma, and I’m not ever going to let you go.”

I raised my chin. “You can’t hurt me anymore Damon.”

A pleasant curl came to his lips. “No?”

“No.”

“What about your kids?”

“You can’t hurt them either.”

“How are you going to protect them if you’re not here?”

“I’d never leave them Damon. When I leave, they leave with me.”

“No. They won’t.”

“You can’t stop me.”

His smiled widened. “You’re a deceitful bitch. There is no way in hell I’ll let you turn my son into a pussy or my daughter into a slut.”

“As if I’d stay so you can teach Warren to abuse women and Hannah to accept it.”

“You’ll stay because I love you. If you conform to what a wife should be, I might even forgive you one day. But know if you ever fuck around again, or try to leave me and take MY kids away, I’ll track you down, take them back and leave you with nothing. You’ll never find them or know that they are safe.”

“Your threats mean nothing.” With a deep satisfaction, I stood, and faced my husband. “I want a divorce.”

“A divorce? What about your precious vows?”

“I’ve kept my vows.”

“Not all of them.”

“Where did I ever fail you?”

“Why baby, I thought you understood.” His smile vanished as he stood and gripped the edge of the table. With a display of controlled anger, he hurled it to the side so he could get to me. Crayons scattered all over the floor; Warren’s book lay face down, its pages folded upon themselves. “Till death do us part.”

The words Grey spoke when I blacked out came to mind. Woman, fight back or he’s going to kill you.

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Replies:

[> [> Poor Karma -- Debi, 20:36:56 08/24/09 Mon

Don't you just love it when charaters tell you how to write? Good for her for harassing you! ;-)

Firat of all, I think if you're trying to show Damon and an @$$hole, you hit it right on the head. His mind is so twisted I think he really does believe what he's telling her. SHe can't do anything right; no matter what she does or says, he'll twsit it so that he can beat her and rape her, because that's what he's doing. I'm glad she stood up to him, een though I suspect it will cost her dearly. There comes a point where the truth has to be laid before him, whether he listens or not, whether he accepts it or not. It had to be said. I don't think she could keep it inside any longer.

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[> [> [> Thanks Debi >>> -- Esther, 10:21:41 08/29/09 Sat

>Don't you just love it when charaters tell you how to
>write? Good for her for harassing you! ;-)

Well...not exactly how...but the what usually is appreciated. And I can handle Karma's harassing. I mean you know what she said to me? Get real. A whole two words to make her point. *G*
>
>Firat of all, I think if you're trying to show Damon
>and an @$$hole, you hit it right on the head. His mind
>is so twisted I think he really does believe what he's
>telling her. SHe can't do anything right; no matter
>what she does or says, he'll twsit it so that he can
>beat her and rape her, because that's what he's doing.
>I'm glad she stood up to him, een though I suspect it
>will cost her dearly. There comes a point where the
>truth has to be laid before him, whether he listens or
>not, whether he accepts it or not. It had to be said.
>I don't think she could keep it inside any longer.

Thanks Debi! This is pretty much what I was looking for as far as reactions. Damon has issues that's for sure. And Karma, well, she had her eyes opened, and finally realized how this affects her and her children, so...yeah, a point in her life where she just couldn't keep it inside any longer.

Thanks for your comments and taking the time to read. Much appreciated!

Hugs

Esther

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[> [> An integral part that needed to be told >>>>> --

Page, 18:03:19 08/25/09 Tue

To leave this part out would, I suspect, leave a gaping hole in the book. I didn't find it so much about Karma's abuse at the hands of her husband, but a very telling piece about Karma herself. By reading this, we see what she's endured, and how she's handled it to this point. The part where Warren led his little sister away, familiar with what's about to happen, spoke volumes, even though it was just a couple of sentences. It's very clear Damon believes he's done nothing wrong, nothing he shouldn't do to keep the little woman in line. His justifying his actions reminded me vividly of the husband in the movie Sleeping with the Enemy, the way he referred to his abuse as "quarrels." Damon seems to see it the same way -- just a difference of opinion, and he does what he sees fit to make sure Karma's opinion is the same as his.

And what struck me the most here was the way the thought of Grey gave Karma the fortitude to start standing up for herself. He saved her once, so she knows she can be saved. So she takes steps to do it, no matter the cost.

Unplesasant it might be to read, but to skip it would mean missing a very integral part of why Karma is the way she is.

Very well done!!

Hugs,
Page

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[> [> [> I'm glad you see it that way >>> -- Esther, 10:48:12 08/29/09 Sat

>To leave this part out would, I suspect, leave a
>gaping hole in the book. I didn't find it so much
>about Karma's abuse at the hands of her husband, but a
>very telling piece about Karma herself. By reading
>this, we see what she's endured, and how she's handled
>it to this point. The part where Warren led his
>little sister away, familiar with what's about to
>happen, spoke volumes, even though it was just a
>couple of sentences. It's very clear Damon believes
>he's done nothing wrong, nothing he shouldn't do to
>keep the little woman in line. His justifying his
>actions reminded me vividly of the husband in the
>movie Sleeping with the Enemy, the way he
>referred to his abuse as "quarrels." Damon seems to
>see it the same way -- just a difference of opinion,
>and he does what he sees fit to make sure Karma's
>opinion is the same as his.

I'm glad Karma's situation was clear because of this scene, because as I said, the story isn't about her abuse so much, but it does need to be understood what that kind of situation can do to a woman. And yeah, Warren has lived with this his entire life and he understands what's going on.

And I do believe you understand Damon, and I love the concept that he was just getting her to adjust her difference of opinion to what his was. Oh and that movie gave me chills! I remember the lengths she went to to get away, her rebelling against what was done to her by not hanging up the towels, and then just when she lets herself live a little, she comes home to those towels folded and evenly spaced on the towel bar? Can you imagine the surge of emotions going through her?
>
>And what struck me the most here was the way the
>thought of Grey gave Karma the fortitude to start
>standing up for herself. He saved her once, so she
>knows she can be saved. So she takes steps to do it,
>no matter the cost.

Yeah. Kind of ironic, when Grey is essentually the reason for the situation in the first place. *G* But yeah, I was worried because she does give up a lot and she does make choices that might not be the best ones. But without this scene to kinda highlight why she needed to get the heck out of dodge...What woman would do what she does?
>
>Unplesasant it might be to read, but to skip it would
>mean missing a very integral part of why Karma is the
>way she is.
>
>Very well done!!

Thanks Page!
>
>Hugs,
>Page

Hugs back

Esther

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[> [> My two cents>>>>> -- Lady Morilka, 03:24:31 09/09/09 Wed

I hve just pickes out the parts i have comments for so don't wonder if there are things missing in between, it would have been to long ;)

>I discovered I was capable of feelings. Guilt. Was
>he okay? Did he get away? I watched the news,
>worried about what the police found at the site, but
>the only report was that one was dead and gang
>activity was suspected.
one what?
>
>“I’m a coward,” I whispered. Despite how terrible I
>felt, I could not go back to that street. It was
>easier to pretend it never happened. My thumb moved
>over the engraving on the locket I held in my palm. I
>could pretend, but I couldn’t forget.
What engraving? Is that explaned before?

>Startled, I turned away from the counter and stifled a
>cry when I saw Damon swing the locket on the broken
>chain. At first I felt guilty. Then violated. He
>had been searching through my personal things. Then
>realization hit; I became afraid. His intent had been
>to find something incriminating, and thanks to my
>stupidity, he had.
I like how she sees al as her fault/stupidity first, it speaks volumes of the time this has been going on. Until now ;)
>
>He took a step toward me. “Where did you get it?”
>
>“Warren, could you take Hannah upstairs?”
>
>“My crayons, Mommy!”
Even he wants to do everything right now daddy is in the room, kind of frightning. most kids would love to have an excuse not to clean up their stuff.
>
>“I’ll put them away for you. You go wash up. Have
>Warren read you a story. I’ll call you when dinner is
>ready.”
>
>My son took his sister by the hand and led her out of
>the room, the clutter left behind on the table. He
>knew this routine as well, and didn’t ask any
>questions or protest in any way. Later, when it was
>quiet, he would come to help me.
Does Damon knows this?
I wanted to cry.
>Instead, I opened the dishwasher and placed the knife
>on the rack.
The knife here gave me chilles, great writing.
>
>His calmness spoke of his fury, his demeanour a casual
>acceptance of yet another disappointment in his wife,
>when underneath it all, I imagined he was plotting to
>teach me my place. He opened the fridge door and took
>out another beer, sitting back in his chair at the
>table, nonchalant and as unconcerned as I was panicked
>and frightened. He tossed the locket down beside his
>beer.
You brought out that teasing, nervracking playing normal very well. Great writing!

>“Ah yes. A gift from your lover.”
I like that you picked something palpable as a reason for Karma to stand up. She has no lover, and Damons insisting on it, is something she can't bring down to a fault of hers. It is nothing she can think of as a mistake she made, it is an outright lie he wants from here, nothing she can pretend/feel like "he might be right, I might have overreacted" ore something along that line. (hope that makes sense)
>
>“I’ve kept my vows. That’s something you can’t say.”
>
>“You want me to be faithful?” His eyes narrowed as if
>in contemplation. “Then give me what I want.”
This really showes his twisted reality. She has to make everything right for HIM.

>“What I want doesn’t matter. What you want is all
>that’s important. And according to you it’s on my
>knees with your cock in my mouth.”
I'm not sure, but maybe you should leave out the last sentence here, leave it open to the reader what else he might have want over the time. Sometimes, imagination running wild (in the reader) can be a good thing, or at least put a lot more to a sentenceas if it is left a little more open.

>“I know what you’re planning, Karma.”
He does need a logic (for him) explanation for everything around him, does he.

>I raised my chin. “You can’t hurt me anymore Damon.”
>
>A pleasant curl came to his lips. “No?”
>
>“No.”
>
>“What about your kids?”
I like the switching between her kids and his kids, whatever suites his arguments.

>“Your threats mean nothing.” With a deep
>satisfaction, I stood, and faced my husband. “I want
>a divorce.”
>
>“A divorce? What about your precious vows?”
>
>“I’ve kept my vows.”
>
>“Not all of them.”
>
>“Where did I ever fail you?”
>
>“Why baby, I thought you understood.” His smile
>vanished as he stood and gripped the edge of the
>table. With a display of controlled anger, he hurled
>it to the side so he could get to me. Crayons
>scattered all over the floor; Warren’s book lay face
>down, its pages folded upon themselves. “Till death
>do us part.”
Chilles!!!
>
>The words Grey spoke when I blacked out came to mind.
>Woman, fight back or he’s going to kill you.

I think this is a very intense chapter, and you should keep it, it showes a lot of charakter in both of them. I like how one incident showed her that she is worth something, she just needs to stand up. Which is easier said than done!
You did a great writing here!

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>Okay, some thing I need to say before hand. This >piece might be controversial. I suspect it might not >be pleasant. But the plain fact is that Karma is a >battered woman. Her husband did abuse her. And I >think some of that needs to be addressed to get the >motivation of her actions across in the right light, >otherwise her choices will make her seem selfish >and…and I can’t think of the right word, but she’ll >appear in a sullied light. This scene deals with some >of that. So here is my warning. At close to 4000 >words long, this contains course language, violence, >and suggestive scenes of an adult nature. If you >would prefer not to read or comment, please don’t. >This might not be every one’s cup of tea and I >understand that. > >Number two. My intent/purpose. When I posted the bit >about Trystan, Page didn’t understand his actions and >although I loved her analogy, Larn made the point that >his behaviour should be obvious as a character trait >and not bad writing. And so I said to myself, ‘Well >Damon is kinda like that, and anyone at this stage in >the story would have seen his behaviour, so I’ll just >need to refer to that one incident.’ And Karma >laughed at me, told me in no uncertain terms that I >had sugar coated her situation, her husband’s >behaviour and had left out one of the most important >elements altogether. Great. I read what I had, and >realized she had a valid point. Off to my deleted >scene file. What I found in there was very explicit, >and I had cut it because her actual abuse isn’t the >point of the story. Overcoming it is. So…what I >aimed for with this scene was something between too >graphic and too vague. No sugar coating yet not >skirting the issue because it might not be pleasant. >Something to make the reader understand she endured >his erratic behaviour/abuse in all its forms for >years. What I’d like to know is how far off I am or >if I’m on the right track. > >Number three. The set up. This takes place years >after she attempts suicide, yet mere weeks after she’s >accosted in an alley and the stranger in her dreams >protects her. She’s nervous, feels guilty, and is >reminded of him every night when she closes her eyes, >because this time the stranger’s presence in her world >is real and this time she remembers him and doesn’t >think of him as a delusion. Unfortunately, her odd >behaviour has made her husband suspect something is >going on with her, and of course, he can only assume >its one thing. > >And that’s it. Let’s meet Damon. > > >Excerpt from working title ‘Pander’ >by E. M. Sawatzky © 2001-2009 All rights reserved. >Posted for critiquing purposes only and does not >constitute publication. > > > >Remember him? I couldn’t forget him. Here I sat, on >the bed I shared with my husband, thinking of another >man. Two weeks had passed since I woke up in the car, >the locket clutched tight in my palm; my fingers stiff >and half moons imbedded into my skin from my nails. I >remembered everything, including the words he spoke >when I blacked out. > >I discovered I was capable of feelings. Guilt. Was >he okay? Did he get away? I watched the news, >worried about what the police found at the site, but >the only report was that one was dead and gang >activity was suspected. > >“I’m a coward,” I whispered. Despite how terrible I >felt, I could not go back to that street. It was >easier to pretend it never happened. My thumb moved >over the engraving on the locket I held in my palm. I >could pretend, but I couldn’t forget. > >In my fantasies he did dwell. If the ebony eyes >haunted me during the day, by night they seduced. He >invaded my dreams and left me trembling with want. >Passionate kisses drugged my senses, lips brought me >to release... > >“What’s the matter with me?” With an angry curse, I >hastened to my feet, and took the couple of steps to >the dresser. “I don’t even know his name!” Or where >he was buried. What I knew was that he’d been dead >for a century. > >With another curse, I looked at the clock on the >bedside table. Damon would be furious if he came home >and dinner wasn’t ready. I opened the jewellery box, >stashed the locket under a couple worthless pieces, >and then slid the earring tray over top. > >My steps faltered as I came down the steps. In the >kitchen, Damon sat at the table, a cracked beer in >front of him. He reeked of perfume, smoke and booze, >of an afternoon spent in the pursuit of lascivious >consumption, and still he was home early. It was just >after four, but his shift wasn’t over until five. > >“Hi Damon. I didn’t expect you.” Nervous, I kissed >him and then went about getting supper started. His >icy stare didn’t waver or help with my unease. He >didn’t even acknowledge Warren or Hannah when they >came to greet him. I almost sank with relief when I >heard the empty can hit the table and his chair scrape >back on the floor. I released the breath I didn’t >realize I was holding. > >With him upstairs, the tension eased, and I went about >the tasks to prepare supper. At the kitchen table, >the kids settled into their routine, with me helping >Warren with his reading homework when needed and my >encouraging Hannah to draw me a picture with her >crayons. It was easy to pretend today was just >another day. But the feeling of foreboding told me >different. > >“Okay. Chicken is in the oven. Potatoes are steaming >and the vegetables are cut.” A quick swish of the >dishcloth under the running water and the cutting >board was clean. “Hannah, supper is just about ready. > Clean up time. Pack up your crayons and put your >paper away. You too, Warren. Put your book on the >shelf where it belongs. And then you can help me set >the table.” I picked up the knife to put in the >dishwasher. > >“Where did you get this?” > >Startled, I turned away from the counter and stifled a >cry when I saw Damon swing the locket on the broken >chain. At first I felt guilty. Then violated. He >had been searching through my personal things. Then >realization hit; I became afraid. His intent had been >to find something incriminating, and thanks to my >stupidity, he had. > >He took a step toward me. “Where did you get it?” > >“Warren, could you take Hannah upstairs?” > >“My crayons, Mommy!” > >“I’ll put them away for you. You go wash up. Have >Warren read you a story. I’ll call you when dinner is >ready.” > >My son took his sister by the hand and led her out of >the room, the clutter left behind on the table. He >knew this routine as well, and didn’t ask any >questions or protest in any way. Later, when it was >quiet, he would come to help me. I wanted to cry. >Instead, I opened the dishwasher and placed the knife >on the rack. > >“Where Karma?” > >The door closed, I turned to face my husband. “I…I’ve >had it…” I stopped speaking when I recognized I was >going to lie. The man, the stranger from my dreams, >had come to me when I needed him and had protected me. > After the demonstration of his courage, was I really >going to belittle his efforts as if it wasn’t >important? No. I couldn’t. It had cost him to come >to my aid. I wouldn’t mock his integrity. “Someone >gave it to me.” My chin went up in defiance. “A >friend.” > >“Which one? Gareth? Or Grey?” > >“Grey,” I whispered, a shiver going up my spine. I >met Damon’s furious gaze. “Gareth? What are you >implying? I don’t know anyone by those names.” > >He came toward me, his stride even. “If you said >Gareth I might have believed you.” His thumb traced >over the pulse in my neck, gentle, in a caress that >was almost sensual. “But we both know you wouldn’t >come up with a ridiculous name like Grey all by >yourself and you wouldn’t have said his name like a >lover.” > >“I didn’t come up with it. I never heard it until you >mentioned it.” > >“Then explain to me, dear wife, why you’re >restless. Why you toss and turn all night.” His >fingers tightened on my throat, the pressure not >enough to choke, but enough to get my attention. “Why >you cry out those names in your sleep.” > >Stunned, I couldn’t answer. Rather abruptly, he >released me. > >His calmness spoke of his fury, his demeanour a casual >acceptance of yet another disappointment in his wife, >when underneath it all, I imagined he was plotting to >teach me my place. He opened the fridge door and took >out another beer, sitting back in his chair at the >table, nonchalant and as unconcerned as I was panicked >and frightened. He tossed the locket down beside his >beer. > >I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how Damon >would react. It was obvious he was angry. I didn’t >know if he’d respond to me with violence or with the >deceitful affection that would lure me into a sense of >false hope. Not that it mattered. Whatever I chose >would be the wrong thing so I stood there, backed up >against the counter, waiting. The expectancy stirred >up an anxiousness all on its own. I did nothing. I >said nothing. Paralyzed, I just watched him drink his >beer. > >The clock ticking down the seconds counted time as it >waited for Damon. When I thought I was mad for >wanting him to just get on with it already, the empty >can hit the table. > >“You know Karma, I have thought many things about you >over the years. But I never would have guessed a >frigid bitch like you would commit adultery.” His >gaze went to the locket, to the light shining off the >surface. “What gives with that?” > >“I told you. A friend gave it to me.” Despite the >situation, and the awareness that today his quietness >would result in a worse beating than if he’d let his >rage out, I smiled. > >“Ah yes. A gift from your lover.” > >“He wasn’t my lover.” I saw Damon’s snide expression, >his disbelief, and for the first time in ages, I felt >the urge to stand up for myself. “But I wanted him to >be. At least with him, I doubt I’d be beaten bloody >or expected to have sex right afterward against my >will.” > >Damon only smiled. “You like it.” > >“You like it. The rougher the better. The more hurt >I am the better you like it.” I struggled to keep my >voice even. “You get off on it.” > >“You make me do it. You taunt me until I give you >what you want. You force me to hit you, and then when >I do you lay there before me, crying, and you tell me >you love me. That you’ll never leave me.” He smiled. > “You’re asking for it right now. You want me to make >love to you.” > >“There is no way I can express how loathsome you make >me feel, how repulsed and degraded, when you make >love to me. And I say I love you because you >force me to say it. You demand the words I’d never >speak on my own. If I don’t you hurt me some more.” > >He shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “What can I say? >Sex is better with you when you fight against it.” He >took a swallow of his beer. “Now I know why. A slut >like you needs to be dry. Not only does it make for a >tighter ride, but I know I’m not coming in second.” >He laughed at his own joke. > >“I’ve kept my vows. That’s something you can’t say.” > >“You want me to be faithful?” His eyes narrowed as if >in contemplation. “Then give me what I want.” > >“You hurt me. I can’t pretend to enjoy it.” > >He shook his head in disbelief. “I hurt you? How?” > >Embarrassed I couldn’t answer. “Never mind.” > >“You brought it up. How am I to understand if you >don’t talk to me?” With his foot, he slid a chair out >in a gesture for me to sit beside him. “Come on baby. > Talk to me.” > >He sounded so sincere that I sat beside him. I took a >deep breath. “You’re…forceful.” > >“You mean rough.” > >“Yeah. And you…” > >“I what?” > >I shook my head. “You rush through the motions, like >you can’t wait to finish.” > >“That would be the whole point.” > >“But shouldn’t you…” I swallowed. “Shouldn’t you >enjoy the whole thing?” > >“The whole thing?” > >“You know.” > >“No. You tell me. What do you think the whole thing >is?” > >“You know…enjoying my body. Taking the time to get it >to the same place you are.” > >“Foreplay? You want me to take my time with you?” He >smiled. “Hell Karma. I thought you understood once >its up, it’s ready to come.” > >“So what am I? Just some woman who happens to be >available? Don’t you care about me at all?” > >“Grow up Karma. Sex is not about childish feelings of >love. It’s about physical release.” > >“I wouldn’t know, would I?” I couldn’t sit there and >face him anymore. I had to do something. I grabbed >the oven mitts, and shoving my hands into them, opened >the door on the stove under the pretence of checking >the chicken. > >Damon scraped his chair back, his steps soft as he >approached. With me bent over, his hands gripped my >hips and pulled me back against him. I closed the >door, straightening with caution. > >“So that’s what this is about? You want an orgasm?” >His hands slid up, cupping my breasts, applying >pressure until I leaned against him and felt the >warmth of his body, the caress of his fingers on my >nipples. Snuggled up to my back, he leaned close, his >weight pressing me down against the top of the stove. >His tongue traced the outer edges of my ear before he >whispered to me in a seductive tone. “You want to >come for me? You want me to treat you like the slut >you are?” His fingers clamped down, pinching hard. >“Come on baby, I’ll make you my whore.” > >Revolted, I shoved back, my action surprising him to >the extent I could slip out of his grip. “You’re >disgusting.” I turned away, listening to his heavy >breathing, and then when that quieted, to the silence, >to the sound of him getting a beer out of the fridge, >the distinctive pop of the can and finally to the >imagined rustle of his clothes. He remained the six >or so feet from where I stood. A quick glance showed >him standing with his arms crossed over his chest, >leaning a casual hip against the edge of the counter, >watching me. > >“What do you want from me, Karma? You tell me you >want me to pleasure you, and then you push me away.” > >“I don’t want to be fucked Damon.” The gloves came >off, landing in a fit of anger on the counter. > >“You just want to fight.” Damon made a rude sound in >his throat. “And we both know you’ll provoke me until >I do. You enjoy arguing with me, and you know sex >always follows. Why should I believe you don’t want >what I give you?” > >“I don’t want to fight. Ever. And I don’t just want >sex. I’m your wife. Not your whore.” > >“Then what the hell do you want? Why can’t you tell >me? I love you and would do anything for you but I >don’t know what more I can do for you.” > >“After all the years together, you don’t know me at >all, do you?” > >For the first time since he showed me the locket, his >anger was evident in the clenching of his jaw. “Do >you push your lover away like this too, Karma? Do you >think it makes him care?” > >We were back to this. “I don’t have a lover.” > >“He’s just using you.” > >“You are the only one who uses me.” I puttered with >the cut vegetables, arranging them on the plate. > >“What we do is mutual.” > >“What would you call last night?” > >“What was wrong with last night?” > >I faced him. “I told you no.” > >“Uh uh. You said you were sore.” > >“You insisted anyway.” > >“Oh baby, I couldn’t help it. I wanted you so bad.” >He smiled. “Besides I was considerate of you.” > >I gapped at him, astounded despite myself. “How do >you figure?” > >“I knew you were uncomfortable, so I didn’t hold back.” > >“Hold back?” > >“Yeah, you know how I usually stop you? I didn’t last >night. Even though I knew I’d come right away since >you haven’t done that for me in a while.” > >The smugness in his voice made me sick. “Of which I >was thankful.” > >His eyes narrowed, the only indication that my words >offended him. “You enjoyed it.” > >“Last night, despite how I felt, you forced me to my >knees in front of you, held onto my hair and demanded >I suck. I gagged through the whole ordeal.” > >He laughed. “Why do you think it felt so good?” > >“You’re a pig.” > >“I’m a man who knows what he wants. You’re a stupid >bitch that doesn’t. You think you don’t want it, yet >when I apply just a little pressure, you give in.” > >“What I want doesn’t matter. What you want is all >that’s important. And according to you it’s on my >knees with your cock in my mouth.” > >He came toward me, a slow swagger of belligerence, >stopping when I could feel his breath on my face. >Then his hand lifted and went to the back of my neck, >bringing me closer. I held myself stiff as his thumb >brushed over my lower lip. His gaze followed its >path. “Oh yeah baby, I readily admit I love you on >your knees before me, waiting for me to give it to >you.” His voice lowered to that suggestive whisper; >his hips pressed aggressively against me and brought >his erection tight to my body. “But a woman’s body >has other holes Karma. Your mouth isn’t my >favourite.” He smiled, a lopsided grin of indulgence. > “When I’m through with you tonight, when you go to >sit down you’ll be stretched enough to remember which >one I prefer, and which one I’m going to have as often >as I want, whenever I want, whether you’re sore >or not.” > >Damon raised his gaze, waiting until he was sure I >received his message, and then he released his hold, >stepping back as if he hadn’t threatened me with >sodomy. I didn’t doubt he meant every word or that >I’d be sorry. He enjoyed it when we fought with words >just as much as when he used his fists. To him, this >was foreplay. I tried to twist away, but his grip on >my shoulders prevented me from turning away from him. > > >His hands slid down my arms, restraining me until I >accepted his touch, before they crept around my waist >in a mockery of an embrace. “Tell me, wife, do you >give him what I have to take? Do you give him head >when you won’t come near me? Does the thought of >screwing another man make you wet?” > >“Stop it.” I started to struggle against his hold. > >“Do you tell him to stop when he wants your ass? Does >he fuck you from behind, or does he like to watch your >deceitful face? Does he go slow enough to give you >the orgasm you withhold when you’re with me?” > >“Stop!” > >“Not until you admit to your affair.” He took a >breath and relaxed his hold, allowing me to escape. >“Deny it all you want, but you’ve been dreaming of two >men.” His lips curled in a smile. “Perhaps you >haven’t been lying. You don’t have a lover, >you have two.” > >“Yeah, that’s it, Damon. I enjoy the humiliation so >much I double the pleas—” > >It took a second for me to get my balance back; >grabbing onto the counter for support I stayed on my >feet. Damon wiped the blood from by lip with a gentle >touch. “You dare mock me? You dare fuck >around after all I’ve done for you?” > >One look in his eyes and I recognized the righteous >indignation, the justifiable anger he felt prompting >the violence. In direct contrast was the soft even >voice in which he spoke, the openness of his body, the >charming smile that had been my undoing. Under normal >circumstances, I would cower when he was behaving like >this. The calmer he was the worse the beating. Each >blow a strategic message delivered as promised. With >the most hurt, the most damage on the parts of my body >covered by clothes. Today, I had gone too far. >Liberated, I found I didn’t really care. Let him try. > > >I followed his lead, allowing myself to lean a hip >against the counter in disinterest. “What’s the >matter? Are you jealous that I’m getting it and >you’re not? Or are you waiting for an invite? Is >that why you’ve never gone down on me, because a man >gave you a taste of co—” > >My sight focused first. Then my hearing. Then the >pain came as a sharp throb that split my head in two. >Before I could test to see if there was blood, Damon >hauled me to my feet and all but tossed me into my >chair. He sat down opposite me and regarded me with >an intense focus I found insulting. Another one of >his attempts to intimidate me. > >“I know what you’re planning, Karma.” > >“Really?” It hurt to talk, and despite the pain, I >tried to move my jaw back and forth. Both times he >had held back; there was no gash in my mouth from my >teeth. “Why don’t you tell me?” > >“You’re going to leave me for another man.” He made a >point of examining the locket, picking it up off the >table and opening the clasp. “The one who gave you >this. Which one was he?” > >I leaned forward in my chair. I didn’t flinch from >his stare. “Grey.” > >Damon nodded. “I thought as much, given the way you >say his name. Although, I must admit I’m >disappointed. I thought you had better taste. The >man you picked…? I can’t even pawn this.” He glanced >up, met my gaze, which for the first time didn’t waver >from his. “It’s a cheap, wore out piece of crap and >of no value to anyone.” He started laughing. “Just >like you. Here. I’m sure you earned it.” > >He pushed it across the table. Daring me to take it. > >I did, and when I raised it to my chest, revealing how >much it meant to me, the chain seemed to wrap itself >around my wrist in a protective grip. “Why are you >letting me keep it? Why not destroy it like you have >everything else that meant anything to me?” > >“You really are stupid aren’t you? Think about it. >If I let you have it, you can look at it every day and >grieve the loss of him. You’ll look at it know the >only reason you have it is because of me. One day you >will realize you can never leave. You belong to me >Karma, and I’m not ever going to let you go.” > >I raised my chin. “You can’t hurt me anymore Damon.” > >A pleasant curl came to his lips. “No?” > >“No.” > >“What about your kids?” > >“You can’t hurt them either.” > >“How are you going to protect them if you’re not here?” > >“I’d never leave them Damon. When I leave, they leave >with me.” > >“No. They won’t.” > >“You can’t stop me.” > >His smiled widened. “You’re a deceitful bitch. There >is no way in hell I’ll let you turn my son into a >pussy or my daughter into a slut.” > >“As if I’d stay so you can teach Warren to abuse women >and Hannah to accept it.” > >“You’ll stay because I love you. If you conform to >what a wife should be, I might even forgive you one >day. But know if you ever fuck around again, or try >to leave me and take MY kids away, I’ll track >you down, take them back and leave you with nothing. >You’ll never find them or know that they are safe.” > >“Your threats mean nothing.” With a deep >satisfaction, I stood, and faced my husband. “I want >a divorce.” > >“A divorce? What about your precious vows?” > >“I’ve kept my vows.” > >“Not all of them.” > >“Where did I ever fail you?” > >“Why baby, I thought you understood.” His smile >vanished as he stood and gripped the edge of the >table. With a display of controlled anger, he hurled >it to the side so he could get to me. Crayons >scattered all over the floor; Warren’s book lay face >down, its pages folded upon themselves. “Till death >do us part.” > >The words Grey spoke when I blacked out came to mind. >Woman, fight back or he’s going to kill you. 
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