BEYOND THE MASK: ORIGINS PROLOGUE (RATED R FOR MATURE SUBJECT MATTER) AVAILABLE NOW!!!

Here is a look at why the Psychological Action Thriller community is buzzing about the Beyond the Mask: Origins novella. It has been dubbed a LITERARY GAME CHANGER! A shot in the arm to the URBAN LIT GENRE. A work of art that will blur the line between sub and mainstream literature. HERE IS A CHANCE FOR YOU TO SEE FOR YOURSELF. I present to you the prologue for Beyond the Mask: Origins (RATED R FOR STRONG LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE, AND STRONG SEXUAL THEMES)

PROLOGUE
When the Rabbit has the Gun

“Don’t you hurt her!” shouted the man as he struggled mightily to free himself from the ropes that bonded him to the heavy, rusted metal chair. “I swear to God, I will kill you if you hurt my child!”

“How touching.” Eric Sinclair quipped, with his face frowned, mocking the man by pretending to shed a tear of sorrow. “Sad, but how very touching that a man, who had the greatest of life’s gifts bestowed upon him by the so called Almighty God of the world, shows concern for his daughter. I ask you this though officer. Where was that concern when you left your wife and daughter abandoned at home? Left them cold, hungry and alone while you went out into the world and fornicated with every harlot acting, sexually deviant minded woman you took a sworn oath to rid the streets of? WHERE WAS IT! No…no, your concern for your daughter is not realistic. You care not for her, nor do you care for what may happen to her this evening. You entertain the emotions of anger and care on the outside, while the true performance of your soul dances within you. I know you Detective. I know what really happened to your wife. Your hands bear the stains that no amount of repentance could ever wash away. You are wearing a mask, Detective Harper. A mask that on this most glorious of nights, shall finally be removed from your pitiful face.”

Eric Sinclair symbolically placed his hands to his head, and abstracted an imaginary mask from his face. Detective Harper wiggled and writhed about in the heavily weighted steel chair. He could feel the ropes starting to loosen. He rapidly rotated his feet in an effort to further extricate himself from captivity. Eric Sinclair expressed amusement at Detective Harper’s tenacity in trying to free himself. He applauded him for the bravery. The atmosphere was maddening in the sense that Detective Harper was covered under a suffocating shroud of darkness. He knew that his daughter was somewhere in the room, but he could not lay his eyes on her. His bondsman remained a disembodied, ambiguous voice, within the range of sound, helplessly out of touch of his hands.

The deranged man pulled up a metal folding chair and sat down beside the detective. “You know,” he started to say in a low, monotonic tone; “I am not a man who does not understand you, Detective Harper. I do not understand your motives for doing the unspeakable shit that you do. I get it man. Believe me…I get it. You murdered your wife because you had to right? RIGHT! Yeah, I know that I am right. I would have killed the bitch too. Shit man, if a bitch wouldn’t suck my dick when I came home after a hard day of cracking skulls and whooping ass, I would fuck a bitch up too. Dig this right. You are going to die, but I may give you a chance to save yourself. I haven’t decided yet. That will all depend on how well we all make it through this. You feel me flat foot?”

The desperation of the Detective grew exponentially as his screams for salvation grew louder. Footsteps could be heard off in the distance. Detective Harper’s movement ceased as he attempted to listen carefully to the sounds around him. The faint sounds of what he believed to be dogs growling and barking could be heard in the distance. “Let me go you sonofabitch! I swear, I am going to rip your fucking heart out! Be a man and face me!”

Eric stared at Detective Harper through the darkness. His mind was steadily knocking on the door to insanity. Each knock represented a thought that would plunge him further into the land of no return. Stop shouting at me. You are a bad man and you are scaring me. I don’t think that I like Detective Harper anymore. I don’t like his bitch ass anymore either. Well I do. I think he is cute. Let me see how big his dick is before you cut it off. Ok Eric? THAT’S ENOUGH! I am sick of all of you. Just shut the hell up, and let me work.

Eric Sinclair grew tired of the game, and decided to end it. He opened a door and traveled over to the wall on the far side of the room and pushed up the switch which controlled the lighting in the room. The brief flash of the bright light temporarily blinded Detective Harper, which caused his eyes to squint heavily until his vision was able to adjust. When he regained full visual focus, his face contorted into an expression of horror. He realized that he was being held captive in the basement of the house of the woman that he murdered in cold blood.

“Th-th-this is my house. You sick bastard!” he screamed when he saw his daughter tied to a stake in the middle of the room. “What have you done to her? Let her go!. Goddammit, Eric, let her go!”

The stake was positioned in the center of the floor plan. A thick glass structure housed both Detective Harper and his daughter with an equally thick wall of glass separating the two of them. Harper looked around and noticed that the rope that constrained him ran from his chair, to a lever that controlled an old weathered, wooden door on the opposite side of his daughter’s cell. He turned his head to the left, and realized that there was an identical door on his side as well. Outside of the cell, hundreds of faceless, and expressionless ceramic white mask decorated the walls as well as various newspaper articles about what the media has termed, “The Nightmare Man Murders.”

The door to his cell opened and Eric Sinclair entered into the tiny room. Detective Harper lunged his body in Sinclair’s direction. The momentum and forced used caused the chair to topple over which sent his body down to the cement floor with a loud thud. Eric Sinclair jumped back and began to giggle wildly. “Wow, such aggression. I can see why those women loved to have sex with you.” He reached down to lift the Detective’s body back to a seated position. “There is something that I always wondered about aggressive men like you, something that I have always found to be extremely sexy.”

Eric Sinclair reached down between Detective Harper’s legs and tightly gripped the bulge made by the genitalia in his jeans. “Damn, Detective Harper,” Eric said as he licked his lips. “You really do represent the strong arm of the law. Tell me something. Does it taste as good as it feels?”

“Untie me motherfucker and I will gladly show you.”

“Oh come now baby, you don’t be that way with me. I know that you are just as curious about me as I am about you. I would see the way that you would stare deep into the television screen whenever a news report of me came on. All of the newspaper articles you have collected, and my many mask that decorate the walls of your basement. That is why you killed her isn’t it? You killed your wife because you didn’t want to share me. Wow big daddy! I just love a man who will kill for me. Such an amazing turn on.”

Sinclair shoved his hand down the front of his own pants to stroke the erection that continued to grow with every erotic thought of the detective. After a few seconds, he felt the vibration of Detective Harper’s penis in his hand as it began to harden. A sinister smile flashed across his face as he squeezed Detective Harper’s penis a little harder in order to feel the throbbing pulsation. Eric began to slowly massage Detective Harper’s cock and said in a slightly feminine voice, “My word Detective, you sure do know how to make a girl feel like she is doing her job. Now I have to see if I can make my chocolate daddy cum for me.”

Eric began to stroke his dick faster as Detective Harper struggled with everything inside of himself to fight his growing sexual urges. He felt his victim fighting his natural desires and moved his hands faster on the detective crotch. He positioned himself in front of the embattled Detective, slowly unzipped his victim’s pants, and exposed his massively hard erection. Detective Harper closed his eyes as tightly as he could. He could not stand to watch what could possibly happen next.

“Oh my God, Detective, I am going to suck your dick better than any other woman has ever sucked a dick in her life. You look so good to me. I have no idea why the other voices want to kill you. I am not like them. No…not like them at all. I just want to love you. Take you all of the way inside of my mouth and savor every inch of you. Neatly swallow every last drop.”

Eric Sinclair slowly dropped to his knees, and placed the Detective’s penis into his mouth. With a smooth steady motion, his head and his hands glided up and down in a perfectly simultaneous rhythm. As he orally performed on his captive, he masturbated feverishly, almost bringing himself to the point of ejaculation. Eric listened carefully to each and every sound that Detective Harper made. He reveled in the fact that just as much as he was emasculating this poor man, he was pleasuring him just the same.

Their moans grew louder, and started to come faster. Eric sucked him harder until Detective Harper ejaculated. “Keep going baby. Keep shooting that warm cum in my mouth. Let me show your daughter how to properly take a man’s dick while she is watching. Let me be the mother that you viciously ripped out of her life.”

Eric stood up and slowly licked his lips clean before quickly sneaking a kiss on Detective Harper’s cheek. “My turn,” he said, as he placed the tip of his penis to the detective’s mouth. Within a second of the touch, Detective Harper opened his mouth and viciously attempted to bite the mad man’s penis in half.

“Whoa!” Eric cried as he jumped backward out of the way. “I guess you aren’t much of a homosexual after all. Damn! I was so looking forward to experiencing a double ejaculation. What a pity too. I told her that she would get to see us both cum. You never fucking cooperate. That is why you are in this position now.”

“Why don’t you untie me from this chair you coward? Untie me so we can both experience satisfaction. You can experience the satisfaction of feeling me. And I can experience the satisfaction of ripping you black heart out.”

“Is that so, Detective Harper?”

“Yeah!”

“Is that the same thing that you did to your wife when you slaughtered her? Is that why she still has that… look on her face?

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Eric walked to the far side of the small cell and picked up the rotting carcass that was lying face down in the corner. He quickly carried the corpse over to where Detective Harper was sitting, and dumped it at his feet. Harper gasped in horror, when he realized that the decaying body was that of his deceased wife. Detective Harper closed his eyes and quickly turned his head away.

“What is wrong Harp? You don’t like seeing your handy work? What a shame too. My friend, that bitch was fine. Damn what a waste of good pussy my nigga.”

“Why are you doing this? Why are you playing these sick games? Why are you speaking in all of these different voices? Just fucking end this already. Let my daughter go and just kill me!”

Eric tucked his now flaccid penis back down into his pants and walked towards the cell door. He turned back toward the Detective and spoke some final words to him. “How funny is it that for all of these years, you have dedicated your career to capturing me, yet I am the one who captured you? It was no accident you see. We were not placed here together by actions of our own. Oh no, Detective Harper, we exist right now on the same path of this life because it was destined to be. It was always their destiny for us to play against one another in this little game of life. We all have that one person in life that is our identical equal. In my heart, I believed that you were mine. I knew that deep down inside you never really wanted to bring the evil, so called “Nightmare Man” to justice. Nooooo…you would never have captured me because you secretly wanted to be just like me. You wear a mask of sanity to hide from the world, just the same as I wear my red mask to hide from people the likes of you.”

Eric paused for a moment to pull out a cigarette. He quickly lit it, and continued, “Most people in the world want to learn to win in this chaotic game called life but they never truly learn how accept the fact that more than likely that are destined to lose. They pray to an imaginary ghost in the sky for salvation. Wow! SALVATION! Salvation from what? All of you people want this fantastic dream of everlasting life without embracing the harsh reality of death. I have learned to embrace death, love death. I, Detective Harper, welcome death. “

“Look around,” he sternly ordered the Detective as he pointed to the masks that decorated the walls. “They have all fallen. They have all lost. They are the reason why I continue to win. My purpose is to kill motherfuckers like them. You, Detective Harper are not like them. You are just like me. You laugh in the face of death every night. Time for the laughter to stop. Tonight, you will learn to accept your death in order to once again, truly walk amongst the living.”

Detective Harper was left in a state of stunned silence. His mind raced a million miles per second. Eric Sinclair’s words made sense to him.

“Pay attention!” Eric shouted as he slapped Harper across the face. “The rope that binds you controls the fates of both you and your daughter. If you manage to escape from the ties that bind you, the slack in the rope will activate the lever to the door in the other cell. On the other side of that door are three starving pitbull dogs that only have a taste for human flesh. They will feast on your daughter’s body until there is nothing left to bury. Should you choose to remain confined to the chair, you both will be encased in this tomb until you suffocate and die. Detective, tonight there will be no happy ending. Tonight there is only your life, or your two deaths. The ending of either of you is in your hands. Will you fight for your life or will you die a horrific death together. This is your nightmare.”

Eric Sinclair disappeared through the door. He purposely left the gateway to freedom open for the Detective. He wanted him to see that his life could continue. Detective Harper turned to look at the body of his daughter over in the other cell. The screaming had stopped, replaced by faint cries for help. Words escaped Detective Harper. His hands shook violently as his heart raced, pounding with fervent pace. He looked toward the exit once more before vomiting into his lap. Thoughts of freedom were chased around in his mind by feelings of guilt. How can I kill my own daughter to save my own life, he thought as the sting of sweat that fell from his forehead into his eyes burned. Detective Harper turned to face his daughter once more. With the last ounce of energy left in her frail little body, she looked at her father and said, “Daddy, please save me. I forgive you, dad. Don’t kill me like you killed mom.”

Detective Harper lowered his head and cried a cry that only a grieving parent could understand. He turned his head slowly in his daughter’s direction and said, “I’m sorry.”

He then closed his eyes and carefully started to free himself from the ropes. With each strand of rope that fell, he could feel shards of his heart being ripped from his chest. When the last piece of the rope that held him to the chair was removed, Detective Harper stood up and then collapsed to the floor. He crawled over to the glass and feebly attempted to shatter it. The lever moved into position and the sound of the lock releasing on the door rattled his soul. The weathered door slowly creaked open, revealing three pairs of red, glowing eyes. Without hesitation, the dogs darted forward towards their prey, and devoured his daughter completely. Detective Harper wailed and questioned himself as to why he sacrificed the only person in his life that loved him unconditionally for the man that he was.

A few minutes later, he placed his hands on the glass and lifted himself to his feet. Maneuvering on wobbly legs, Detective Harper staggered towards the open door to the narrow set of stairs that lead to freedom. He made the painstaking climb to the top. Lying at the top of the stairs was a plain white mask and a note. He picked up the mask and opened the note. The note read:

Congratulations Detective Harper. Tonight is the night that you have been born again!

Detective Harper folded the note and placed it into the back pocket of his jeans. He turned the mask until he was peering into its dark, empty eyes. He squeezed it tightly, opened the door, and staggered away before collapsing to the floor once again. Eric Sinclair was there as the broken man fell to his feet. Eric sucked his teeth and then knelt down beside the man. Pity consumed him as he placed his hands delicately on Detective Harper’s shoulder.

“Open your eyes and look up detective.”

Detective Harper opened his eyes and immediately tears formed and gushed down his cheeks. Inside of the hand that was not on his shoulder was the hand of his daughter.

“Sh-sh-she’s alive? How? I watched her die.”

Eric rose to his feet and allowed the daughter to comfort her father.

“I wanted your mind to process and your eyes to see only what I allowed them to see.”

“Thank you for not killing her.”

“Do not thank me yet. Tonight, Detective Harper, it was not you who made the choice to sacrifice your daughter’s life. You are nothing more than a mere pawn on the grand chess board. I meant what I said when I stated that you and I are identical sides to the same coin. They made me just as tonight I have made you. Welcome to Forever Land.”

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WITHOUT YOU ALL THERE IS NO ME.

I have never been one to hold my tongue about anything or anyone. When I speak it always comes directly from the heart. My novella has been available for a little more than 48 hours and the love and support that I have received has been overwhelming. There is no amount of thanks that I can give to you guys because it would not be enough.

My dream is to become a best selling author. That has been my dream ever since I started writing professionally. I dream of achieving this status so I can provide a better life for my family. I also want to reach this status so i can look up to the sky and say to Edgar Allan Poe that he is still my inspiration. A writer who does not care what society thinks about him or what others think he should be. Just an artist who lives and dares to dream. 

You guys are my strength because without the support of the readers and my fellow artist in the struggle, I would not be in the position to share this message. Much love always

Poe

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THE OFFICIAL FAN/INFORMATION PAGE OF BEYOND THE MASK: ORIGINS

I want to thank everyone for the tremendous amount of support that you guys have shown me and this project over the past few months. If you have not done so already, please take a few seconds to click on the link and like the fan/information page. 

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Excerpt from fast rising novella Beyond the mask: Origins

Brief excerpt from the rapidly rising Urban/Psychological Thriller novella Beyond the Mask: Origins. Currently sitting at 37,435. SEE WHAT HAS THE INDUSTRY ON FIRE RIGHT NOW. 

We ride together! We die together! Never place us in a box! We are mainstream lit!

PROLOGUE
When the Rabbit has the Gun

“Don’t you hurt her!” shouted the man as he struggled mightily to free himself from the ropes that bonded him to the heavy, rusted metal chair. “I swear to God, I will kill you if you hurt my child!”

“How touching.” Eric Sinclair quipped, with his face frowned, mocking the man by pretending to shed a tear of sorrow. “Sad, but how very touching that a man, who had the greatest of life’s gifts bestowed upon him by the so called Almighty God of the world, shows concern for his daughter. I ask you this though officer. Where was that concern when you left your wife and daughter abandoned at home? Left them cold, hungry and alone while you went out into the world and fornicated with every harlot acting, sexually deviant minded woman you took a sworn oath to rid the streets of? WHERE WAS IT! No…no, your concern for your daughter is not realistic. You care not for her, nor do you care for what may happen to her this evening. You entertain the emotions of anger and care on the outside, while the true performance of your soul dances within you. I know you Detective. I know what really happened to your wife. Your hands bear the stains that no amount of repentance could ever wash away. You are wearing a mask, Detective Harper. A mask that on this most glorious of nights, shall finally be removed from your pitiful face.”

Eric Sinclair symbolically placed his hands to his head, and abstracted an imaginary mask from his face. Detective Harper wiggled and writhed about in the heavily weighted steel chair. He could feel the ropes starting to loosen. He rapidly rotated his feet in an effort to further extricate himself from captivity. Eric Sinclair expressed amusement at Detective Harper’s tenacity in trying to free himself. He applauded him for the bravery. The atmosphere was maddening in the sense that Detective Harper was covered under a suffocating shroud of darkness. He knew that his daughter was somewhere in the room, but he could not lay his eyes on her. His bondsman remained a disembodied, ambiguous voice, within the range of sound, helplessly out of touch of his hands. 

The deranged man pulled up a metal folding chair and sat down beside the detective. “You know,” he started to say in a low, monotonic tone; “I am not a man who does not understand you, Detective Harper. I do not understand your motives for doing the unspeakable shit that you do. I get it man. Believe me…I get it. You murdered your wife because you had to right? RIGHT! Yeah, I know that I am right. I would have killed the bitch too. Shit man, if a bitch wouldn’t suck my dick when I came home after a hard day of cracking skulls and whooping ass, I would fuck a bitch up too. Dig this right. You are going to die, but I may give you a chance to save yourself. I haven’t decided yet. That will all depend on how well we all make it through this. You feel me flat foot?”

The desperation of the Detective grew exponentially as his screams for salvation grew louder. Footsteps could be heard off in the distance. Detective Harper’s movement ceased as he attempted to listen carefully to the sounds around him. The faint sounds of what he believed to be dogs growling and barking could be heard in the distance. “Let me go you sonofabitch! I swear, I am going to rip your fucking heart out! Be a man and face me!”

Eric stared at Detective Harper through the darkness. His mind was steadily knocking on the door to insanity. Each knock represented a thought that would plunge him further into the land of no return. Stop shouting at me. You are a bad man and you are scaring me. I don’t think that I like Detective Harper anymore. I don’t like his bitch ass anymore either. Well I do. I think he is cute. Let me see how big his dick is before you cut it off. Ok Eric? THAT’S ENOUGH! I am sick of all of you. Just shut the hell up, and let me work.

Eric Sinclair grew tired of the game, and decided to end it. He opened a door and traveled over to the wall on the far side of the room and pushed up the switch which controlled the lighting in the room. The brief flash of the bright light temporarily blinded Detective Harper, which caused his eyes to squint heavily until his vision was able to adjust. When he regained full visual focus, his face contorted into an expression of horror. He realized that he was being held captive in the basement of the house of the woman that he murdered in cold blood.

“Th-th-this is my house. You sick bastard!” he screamed when he saw his daughter tied to a stake in the middle of the room. “What have you done to her? Let her go!. Goddammit, Eric, let her go!”

The stake was positioned in the center of the floor plan. A thick glass structure housed both Detective Harper and his daughter with an equally thick wall of glass separating the two of them. Harper looked around and noticed that the rope that constrained him ran from his chair, to a lever that controlled an old weathered, wooden door on the opposite side of his daughter’s cell. He turned his head to the left, and realized that there was an identical door on his side as well. Outside of the cell, hundreds of faceless, and expressionless ceramic white mask decorated the walls as well as various newspaper articles about what the media has termed, “The Nightmare Man Murders.”

The door to his cell opened and Eric Sinclair entered into the tiny room. Detective Harper lunged his body in Sinclair’s direction. The momentum and forced used caused the chair to topple over which sent his body down to the cement floor with a loud thud. Eric Sinclair jumped back and began to giggle wildly. “Wow, such aggression. I can see why those women loved to have sex with you.” He reached down to lift the Detective’s body back to a seated position. “There is something that I always wondered about aggressive men like you, something that I have always found to be extremely sexy.” 

Eric Sinclair reached down between Detective Harper’s legs and tightly gripped the bulge made by the genitalia in his jeans. “Damn, Detective Harper,” Eric said as he licked his lips. “You really do represent the strong arm of the law. Tell me something. Does it taste as good as it feels?”

“Untie me motherfucker and I will gladly show you.”

“Oh come now baby, you don’t be that way with me. I know that you are just as curious about me as I am about you. I would see the way that you would stare deep into the television screen whenever a news report of me came on. All of the newspaper articles you have collected, and my many mask that decorate the walls of your basement. That is why you killed her isn’t it? You killed your wife because you didn’t want to share me. Wow big daddy! I just love a man who will kill for me. Such an amazing turn on.”

Sinclair shoved his hand down the front of his own pants to stroke the erection that continued to grow with every erotic thought of the detective. After a few seconds, he felt the vibration of Detective Harper’s penis in his hand as it began to harden. A sinister smile flashed across his face as he squeezed Detective Harper’s penis a little harder in order to feel the throbbing pulsation. Eric began to slowly massage Detective Harper’s cock and said in a slightly feminine voice, “My word Detective, you sure do know how to make a girl feel like she is doing her job. Now I have to see if I can make my chocolate daddy cum for me.”

Eric began to stroke his dick faster as Detective Harper struggled with everything inside of himself to fight his growing sexual urges. He felt his victim fighting his natural desires and moved his hands faster on the detective crotch. He positioned himself in front of the embattled Detective, slowly unzipped his victim’s pants, and exposed his massively hard erection. Detective Harper closed his eyes as tightly as he could. He could not stand to watch what could possibly happen next.

“Oh my God, Detective, I am going to suck your dick better than any other woman has ever sucked a dick in her life. You look so good to me. I have no idea why the other voices want to kill you. I am not like them. No…not like them at all. I just want to love you. Take you all of the way inside of my mouth and savor every inch of you. Neatly swallow every last drop.”

Eric Sinclair slowly dropped to his knees, and placed the Detective’s penis into his mouth. With a smooth steady motion, his head and his hands glided up and down in a perfectly simultaneous rhythm. As he orally performed on his captive, he masturbated feverishly, almost bringing himself to the point of ejaculation. Eric listened carefully to each and every sound that Detective Harper made. He reveled in the fact that just as much as he was emasculating this poor man, he was pleasuring him just the same. 

Their moans grew louder, and started to come faster. Eric sucked him harder until Detective Harper ejaculated. “Keep going baby. Keep shooting that warm cum in my mouth. Let me show your daughter how to properly take a man’s dick while she is watching. Let me be the mother that you viciously ripped out of her life.”

Eric stood up and slowly licked his lips clean before quickly sneaking a kiss on Detective Harper’s cheek. “My turn,” he said, as he placed the tip of his penis to the detective’s mouth. Within a second of the touch, Detective Harper opened his mouth and viciously attempted to bite the mad man’s penis in half. 

“Whoa!” Eric cried as he jumped backward out of the way. “I guess you aren’t much of a homosexual after all. Damn! I was so looking forward to experiencing a double ejaculation. What a pity too. I told her that she would get to see us both cum. You never fucking cooperate. That is why you are in this position now.”

“Why don’t you untie me from this chair you coward? Untie me so we can both experience satisfaction. You can experience the satisfaction of feeling me. And I can experience the satisfaction of ripping you black heart out.”

“Is that so, Detective Harper?”

“Yeah!”

“Is that the same thing that you did to your wife when you slaughtered her? Is that why she still has that… look on her face?

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Eric walked to the far side of the small cell and picked up the rotting carcass that was lying face down in the corner. He quickly carried the corpse over to where Detective Harper was sitting, and dumped it at his feet. Harper gasped in horror, when he realized that the decaying body was that of his deceased wife. Detective Harper closed his eyes and quickly turned his head away.

“What is wrong Harp? You don’t like seeing your handy work? What a shame too. My friend, that bitch was fine. Damn what a waste of good pussy my nigga.”

“Why are you doing this? Why are you playing these sick games? Why are you speaking in all of these different voices? Just fucking end this already. Let my daughter go and just kill me!”

Eric tucked his now flaccid penis back down into his pants and walked towards the cell door. He turned back toward the Detective and spoke some final words to him. “How funny is it that for all of these years, you have dedicated your career to capturing me, yet I am the one who captured you? It was no accident you see. We were not placed here together by actions of our own. Oh no, Detective Harper, we exist right now on the same path of this life because it was destined to be. It was always their destiny for us to play against one another in this little game of life. We all have that one person in life that is our identical equal. In my heart, I believed that you were mine. I knew that deep down inside you never really wanted to bring the evil, so called “Nightmare Man” to justice. Nooooo…you would never have captured me because you secretly wanted to be just like me. You wear a mask of sanity to hide from the world, just the same as I wear my red mask to hide from people the likes of you.”

Eric paused for a moment to pull out a cigarette. He quickly lit it, and continued, “Most people in the world want to learn to win in this chaotic game called life but they never truly learn how accept the fact that more than likely that are destined to lose. They pray to an imaginary ghost in the sky for salvation. Wow! SALVATION! Salvation from what? All of you people want this fantastic dream of everlasting life without embracing the harsh reality of death. I have learned to embrace death, love death. I, Detective Harper, welcome death. “

“Look around,” he sternly ordered the Detective as he pointed to the masks that decorated the walls. “They have all fallen. They have all lost. They are the reason why I continue to win. My purpose is to kill motherfuckers like them. You, Detective Harper are not like them. You are just like me. You laugh in the face of death every night. Time for the laughter to stop. Tonight, you will learn to accept your death in order to once again, truly walk amongst the living.” 

Detective Harper was left in a state of stunned silence. His mind raced a million miles per second. Eric Sinclair’s words made sense to him. 

“Pay attention!” Eric shouted as he slapped Harper across the face. “The rope that binds you controls the fates of both you and your daughter. If you manage to escape from the ties that bind you, the slack in the rope will activate the lever to the door in the other cell. On the other side of that door are three starving pitbull dogs that only have a taste for human flesh. They will feast on your daughter’s body until there is nothing left to bury. Should you choose to remain confined to the chair, you both will be encased in this tomb until you suffocate and die. Detective, tonight there will be no happy ending. Tonight there is only your life, or your two deaths. The ending of either of you is in your hands. Will you fight for your life or will you die a horrific death together. This is your nightmare.”

Eric Sinclair disappeared through the door. He purposely left the gateway to freedom open for the Detective. He wanted him to see that his life could continue. Detective Harper turned to look at the body of his daughter over in the other cell. The screaming had stopped, replaced by faint cries for help. Words escaped Detective Harper. His hands shook violently as his heart raced, pounding with fervent pace. He looked toward the exit once more before vomiting into his lap. Thoughts of freedom were chased around in his mind by feelings of guilt. How can I kill my own daughter to save my own life, he thought as the sting of sweat that fell from his forehead into his eyes burned. Detective Harper turned to face his daughter once more. With the last ounce of energy left in her frail little body, she looked at her father and said, “Daddy, please save me. I forgive you, dad. Don’t kill me like you killed mom.”

Detective Harper lowered his head and cried a cry that only a grieving parent could understand. He turned his head slowly in his daughter’s direction and said…

http://www.amazon.com/Beyond-The-Mask-Origins-ebook/dp/B00C8W228Q/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1365523018&sr=8-1&keywords=beyond+the+mask+origins

 

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THE ROAD LESS TRAVELED LEADS TO THE GREATEST REWARDS

When I placed my novella in the Psychological Thriller category I knew that I was going to have a tough road ahead of me. The list of authors whose books are also in the Psychological Thriller category include: Harlan Coben, James Patterson, Sandra Brown, David Baldacci, Dan Brown, and John Grisham to name a few.

To have the sales rank of my novella even sniff the 50,000 mark is a blessing in and of itself. My goal is to one day sit side by side with those legends of the game within the top ten and turn to my mother and say. “Your son has finally made it.”
To open doors for so many other authors who have a dream and want nothing more than to achieve that dream. The literary family is one that i hold very near and dear to my heart. Together we will all achieve our dreams.

 

http://www.amazon.com/Beyond-The-Mask-Origins-ebook/dp/B00C8W228Q/ref=pd_rhf_se_p_t_1_2Q58

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557962_10151507018328563_189378905_nMy return to the literary world has finally arrived. Beyond the Mask: Origins is now available

First and foremost ladies and gentlemen, I want to give thanks to my readers all over the world who have supported and encouraged me during my seven year absence from the literary world. Life has thrown me many challenges and with grace and dignity I managed to overcome each one in order to be in the position that I am in at this very moment. It is with great pleasure that I present to you: Beyond the Mask: Origins.

Beyond the Mask is a series that I have been developing since 2006 and last year was finally able to begin to write it. By no means is this an ordinary novella series int he sense that as a writer i have never been one to play by the rules.

Being an African American writer, I have often be categorized as a novelist who can only write one style of story in one particular genre. With this series, my goal is to change that perception about African American writers and the genre of Urban Literature.

Taking a cue from the tried and true formula employed by various comic book companies, what I have done was create a living and breathing universe that will serve as the main character of the series. No two books in the series will ever be the same. There will be no direct sequels because just like in life no two days are ever the same.

Once again i want to thank each and every one of you for taking the time to check out this blog post and for supporting me with the heart and passion that you all have shown. I am truly blessed and would not be where I am today without you.

Poe

http://www.amazon.com/Beyond-The-Mask-Origins-ebook/dp/B00C8W228Q/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1365461838&sr=8-1&keywords=beyond+the+mask+origins

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Finally Undertaker vs CM Punk

As a fan of wrestling for over thirty years very few matches nowadays get me excited. This is one of them.

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ANNOUNCEMENT FOR BEYOND THE MASK: ORIGINS

Just when you thought it was safe to turn down the lights…

Origins is the first installment from the highly anticipated Urban/Psychological Thriller novella series “Beyond the Mask” from the master of Urban Psychological warfare, Novelist Poe. Beyond the Mask: Origins sets the stage for the madness to come by introducing us to the two souls who will ultimately hold the fate of the world in the palms of their hands.

IF YOU THINK YOU KNOW URBAN LITERATURE…THINK AGAIN!

I dare you to journey Beyond the Mask.

AVAILABLE LATER TODAY!!!!!Image

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Psychological Erotic short entitled Sweet Freedom

Field Test

“Are you free?”

“Excuse me?”

“I said, “Are you free?”

“Yes I am free. What kind of question is that?”

“It is actually a very relevant question. Most people believe that they are free when in actuality they are anything but.”

“I disagree.”

“I figured that you would. Slaves usually disagree with the darkness of freedom because they are to blinded by the comfort of veiled bondage.”

“I know you did not just call me a slave.”

“I did, and I will do it again. Mary, you are a slave.”

“Fuck you!”

“The language of a slave. You just strengthened my point.”

“I am not a slave. Never have been. Never will be.”

“Ok. Prove to me that you are not a slave.”

“I don’t have to prove shit to you.”

“Mmmm hmmmm.”

“Fine!”

“Fine what?”

“I will prove it. What do you want me to do?”

“Take off your blouse.”

“Hell no. We are outside and people can see me.”

“Why does the fact that people can see you matter? Are you afraid?”

“No I am afraid. I just don’t think that it is appropriate.”

“By whose standards is taking off your shirt in public inappropriate?”

“…”

“That is exactly my point. You are so afraid of what others will say, that you limit what you will and will not do. You are afraid to be labeled anything other than what society considers normal. You follow along with the program. That makes you a slave.”

“I don’t see you taking anything off.”

” You never asked me to.”

“Ok Mr big shot. Take off your pants.”

Zip!

“There. And as you can see, I do not wear any underwear. Totally free.”

“Oh my God. Everyone is staring. Hurry up and put them back on.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No. I will only put back on the chains of society if you break yours.”

“Fine!”

“Now was that so difficult? Look around you. Is the sky falling? Are men in black suits coming to carry you away? No. No one cares. No one gives a damn about what you do as long as it does not effect their mundane, meaningless lives. Tell me, Mary, how does it feel to destroy a small link in the chain of societal slavery?”

“Honestly, I still feel the same.”

“Do you even realize that your shirt is off anymore?

“No. Not thinking about it.”

“Good my love. Now come closer.”

“What are you going to do?”

“The weakest link has been broken. I am now going to help you to destroy them all. Come here. Now.”

“Ok. Now what?”

“I am going to touch you. As I am touching you, I want you to close your eyes and slowly start to peel away all of the layers of restraint that you have allowed people to bind you with. Breakdown their walls of morality and build the wall of self reliance. Be happy Mary. Be happy now because you will soon be free. You desire to be free. You desire to live.”

“Yes. I want to live.”

“Feel my lips as they gently touch the back of your neck. My kiss. The kiss of freedom. As my lips liberate your neck, feel my chest as it warms your back. Can you feel me Mary?

“Yes. Yes I feel you.”

“That is not pleasure that you feel Mary. That is the sensation of being free. Your innermost desires are rising as your body becomes aroused. Now I am going to move as close to you as space will allow. I want you to take a deep breath. Hold it. I only want you to exhale when you feel my penis nestle comfortably against you. Do you understand me Mary?”

“Yes.”

“Beautiful. Here I come. Closer into your zone while my hands caress your breast then move slowly down to your waist. Feel my fingertips slide from your waist, around to your navel, finally coming to rest on the button of your jeans.”

“Wheeeeeeeewwwwww!”

“Does the feel of my hard dick entice you Mary?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent. Now turn around. The sounds of the people around us are all but silent now. They no longer exist nor do they matter. We are alone. We exist in a world that I have created. A world of freedom. A home all our own. I am now going to slid your jeans down. Lastly will be your panties. As they slowly fall to the earth below, in your mind they will be akin to all of the barriers that have imprisoned you in the land of make believe. As they fall, your true self will rise. Fear will be replaced with courage. Prudence will be replaced with an uncontrollable need to be satisfied. Now Mary, I ask you, are you ready to be free?”

“Yes I am.”

“Feel them now as they fall. Lift your left leg out of the pant to symbolize a step over the first obstacle. Now Mary lift your right leg. Open your legs. The moment you feel my lips touch your most sacred area, you will hold your head to the sky and open your eyes. With each glide of my tongue across your clitoris, you will experience a sensation that was out of your realm of possibility. Mary, I am going to eat your pussy in the name of liberty. Are you ready?”

“Mmmmm. Ohhhhhh. Yes. Yes. I am ready.”

My tongue does to her vagina what my fingers have done to her body and what my words have done to her mind. I do not count the minutes that I pleasure her orally because in my world measurements of time do not exist. In reality her pleasure is infinite because her mind now knows that it is so. 

Her taste captivates me, compels me to kiss harder. I place my tongue inside of her vagina. Not to stimulate her vaginally, but to further quench my thirst for what flows from her.

I pull back for a moment to catch my breath and to brace her because her legs are no longer as sturdy. My tongue stops, but my thumb continues the very circular motion. Giving way to my own desire to feel her deeply, I rise to my feet.

I give Mary no more verbal commands. I place my hands to her hips and turn her as gently as I can. One hand on the upper part of her back and the other supporting the base of her spine, I bend her body forward. 

I enter her as deep as her pussy will allow then close her legs completely. Slow, steady strokes progress into normal paced insertions, transforming into rapidly raging thrust. She is releasing and it is quickly pushing me to the brink of ejaculation. I do not fight what nature intends nor allows. 

I spread her legs, bend my knees slightly then penetrate her with the last of my body’s energy. I feel her cum again. That was the spark that lit the fuse. I feel myself losing control. A feeling I welcome. It is time. Yes. Oh yes it is time. I grip her tighter. Squeeze. Yes. Here I come. Sweet release. Sweet liberation.

SWEET FREEDOM!

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Pleasure Therapy (Short Erotic Psychological Fiction)

Pleasure Therapy

 

 

Oh my God. What am I doing here? This is a mistake. Turn back Sarah. Just turn back now. You do not have to do this. This is ridiculous and stupid. You are not an erotic writer. You write teenage fantasy crap. Hey. Hey! Do not open that door. Dammit! Why won’t you listen to me. Oh God. Now we are inside. Look at this place. There are paintings of nude women and men having sex all over the walls. The lights are all red. No windows. We have to turn back and leave. Hey, Sarah, are you even listening to me? We need to turn around. Oh boy. There is the receptionist desk. Don’t go over there. Stop. Stop! STOP!

 

“Good evening. You must be Sarah. Welcome. You may take a seat right over there and Mr. Sinclair will be right with you as soon as he is finished with his appointment.”

 

Dammit! Now you have gone and really done it. Way to go, Sarah.

 

“Thank you. Do you know how long Mr. Sinclair will be?”

 

The receptionist looked down at her watch and answered, “Should not be more that a few more minutes.”

 

“Ok. Did you say to sit down over there?”

 

“Yes. Take a seat over there on that sofa. Make yourself comfortable.”

 

“I am so nervous. Never did anything like this before.”

 

What the hell are you doing. She already knows that you are pathetic. Why give her more reason to look down on you?

 

“Sarah, girl trust me, you have nothing to be nervous about. I promise you that you will love the experience.”

 

“Thank you. That is what I have been praying for.”

 

After a few moments of small talk, the door to Mr. Sinclair’s office slowly opened and out walked a young Asian couple. Sarah turned her head to watch them as they left. Her eyes widened as she saw how the woman was walking and the look of satisfaction that was written all over her face. The gentleman shook Mr. Sinclair’s hand and hurried to catch up to his wife. He clutched her body from behind and whispered something in her ear which made her laugh before he rushed her out of the building. Mr. Sinclair looked over at Sarah, nodded then smiled before making his way over to his receptionist.

 

Last chance, Sarah. Let’s get he hell out of here. I don’t like the this. Have a very bad feeling about this place and the look in that man’s eyes.

 

“Is that Sarah?”

 

“Yes it is, Mr. Sinclair. She is nervous and has been waiting patiently.”

 

“Thank you, Maxine. I want you to take the rest of the evening off. Sarah will be my last client so your services are no longer needed. Make sure you lock the door on your way out.”

 

Maxine, happy to have the rest of the night off, quickly gathered her things and made her way towards the exit. “Thank you Mr. Sinclair.” Before she exited the building, Maxine leaned down and whispered, “Enjoy every moment of this. Your mind will never be the same again.”

 

What the hell did she mean by that?

 

Mr. Sinclair extended his hand to Sarah, looked into her eyes and politely said, “ Good evening, Sarah. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

 

Sarah shook his hand and immediately felt a strange sensation travel from her hand throughout her body. “I—I am glad to m—meet you t—too.”

 

“By the end of the night, Sarah, the pleasure will be all yours. I promise. Please follow me.”

 

Mr. Sinclair helped Sarah to her feet and lead her into his office. Once inside, he closed and locked the door behind them. Sarah stood in the middle of the room, fascinated by all of the masks that were hanging on the walls. Mr. Sinclair took that as an opportunity to begin to probe Sarah’s mind for an insight into her character.

 

“Sarah.”

 

“Yes, Mr. Sinclair.”

 

“I notice that your gaze is drawn to the masks that I have decorating my walls. Do you like them?”

 

Hell no she doesn’t like them. They are creepy. Tell him, Sarah. Tell him how creepy they are.”

 

“I think they are…I don’t know. I have never seen so many different types of masks before.”

 

“Sarah, I want you to look around the room and tell me what you see. Describe the room to me.”

 

“Ummmm…ok. I see walls that are painted red with white borders. Your desk is made of wood. Not a cheap wood either. Something expensive…exotic. The leather sofa behind me is black and it matches your leather chair. The carpet on the floor is white and I can tell that it is very soft. But the most intriguing part of the room are the different masks. There are so many. Some with blank expressions. Happy, sad, scary, funny. Just so many. I am wondering what they all mean.”

 

“Very good. Nice observation.” Mr. Sinclair stepped closer to Sarah. He positioned himself directly in front of her and stared deeply into her eyes. “Now, Sarah, I want you to look into my eyes and explain to me again what you see int his room.”

 

“I—I see…um…I see…”

 

“You may stop.”

 

“I don’t understand. Why did I just freeze up like that?

 

“Sarah, please have a seat. Make yourself as comfortable as you can. I am going to do the same.”

 

Sarah followed his instructions. She sat down in the middle of the sofa. Once comfortable she promptly crossed her legs and folded her arms.

 

Mr. Sinclair leaned back in his chair and placed his right hand to his chin to stroke his neatly trimmed beard. “Sarah, I am going to ask you a few questions. Once I have your answers, I will tell you why you froze and your nervousness increased when I entered into your personal space. Are you ready to begin?”

 

“Yes…I think.”

 

“Don’t think, Sarah. Yes or no?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“As I ask you these questions I want you to close your eyes. Focus on the sound of my voice and the questions asked. Question number one: What is the one thing in the world that when you think about it makes you the most happy?”

 

Sarah closed her eyes and thought really hard about what she was going to say. Surely you have an answer. I know I do. Just shut up and let me think about it. Fine! “I would have to say my writing makes em the most happy.”

 

“Why. Why your writing?”

 

“Because when I write, I can control what happens in the world that I create. I can go anywhere. Do anything. Be anybody. My peace is in my writing.”

 

“Ok. Now tell me what makes you the most sad?”

 

“That is easy. My loneliness. I have many fans of my work. A lot of family and friends. Yet I still feel all alone. Feel invisible to men. It is like no one actually sees me. That is what hurts me the most.”

 

“When men look at you, Sarah, what do they see?”

 

“I wish I knew the answer to that question. Wish I could answer that. If I knew, Mr. Sinclair, I probably would not be here right now.”

 

“Tell me what you think they see.”

 

“I think that they see a woman who is unhappy. Probably an easy target for a one night stand. They see my breast, and my full figured frame. They see my money because of my writing career.”

 

“How does that make you feel to be objectified in those ways?”

 

It freaking sucks!

 

“At first, I was happy to receive any attention that I got. Beggars can’t be choosers you know. Didn’t mind the random sex because I have needs. After a while I began to feel dirty and cheap. Fell into a deep depression and realized that with all I was worth, I was really worthless.”

 

“So is that what you see when you look at yourself in the mirror? A woman who is worthless.”

 

“Yes. I know that I should feel beautiful, but I don’t. I should feel loved, but I don’t. I have not been touched by a man in over five years. They barely even look at me anymore. I post pictures on social networking sites. Created profiles on dating websites, yet no one pays me any attention. The only men who like and comment are the ones who see that my self esteem is low and they want to use me for sex. I…I…”

 

Mr. Sinclair handed Sarah a tissue to wipe the tears from her eyes. He had heard enough and decided that it was time to begin to heal her pain. “Sarah, I see you. I saw you when you walked into this room. The reason you froze when I looked into your eyes is because of your uncomfortable feelings when a man who has nothing to gain from you enters into your space. The unknown causes you to place a wall around rational, conscious thoughts and actions. Not a defensive shell because you lack that self confidence that enables a person to say back off, but a shell of vulnerability that only serves to invite those who wish to do you harm. I want you to stand to your feet.”

 

Sarah finished wiping her eyes and did as Sinclair told her.

 

“Hand me the tissue and relax.”

 

“Ok. What are you going to do to me?”

 

“Now is not the time for questions. It is time for you to listen. Time to heal. Time to become the woman that you want to be. Close your eyes.”

 

Mr. Sinclair walked over to the switch on the wall and turned off all of the lights in the room. “You may now open your eyes again.”

 

Sarah began to panic as she realized that she could not see anything in the room. “Mr. Sinclair! What is going on? Why did you turn off the lights? Please don’t hurt me.”

 

Suddenly her body jerked forward at the touch of a hand on her shoulder. “Calm yourself, Sarah. I am not going to harm you. You fear what others see when they look at you in the light. When inside of the darkness, all eyes see equally. The beauty that is to be seen is created by touch, sound, what we hear and what we taste. Inner beauty that the senses will help manifest from the darkness of our souls to the light of man’s created reality. I want you to breathe. Breathe slowly, Sarah, in deeply through your nose and out slowly through your mouth. When you breathe in, think of all that you want yourself to be. The beautiful woman that you know you are. See it. Feel it. Believe it. When you exhale, cast away those negative spirits. Those demons of worthlessness, self loathing. They are not you. That negative voice in your head that puts you down. Push her away. Do it now.”

 

For the next sixty seconds, Sarah did as Mr. Sinclair instructed her to do.

 

Don’t do this, Sarah. You need me. I am not negative. I am not bad. Who was there when they all left you? I was the only one you had. The only one who told you the truth. Screw you Sarah. I will be back, You will need me again. Don’t…don’t…d…

 

“Now, Sarah, we move to the next step in making you whole again. Are you ready to be that special woman again?”

 

“Yes I am.”

 

Mr. Sinclair left Sarah’s side and returned to his chair. “Sarah, do you trust me? You must trust me right now for this to be as powerful as it has to be. Tell me that you trust me.”

 

“I trust you. I need this. Please make me whole again.”

 

He smiled and said, “Take off your clothes. Take them off slowly.”

 

“All of them?”

 

“Each and every item. Do it now.”

 

Sarah slowly shed layer after layer until she was standing before him in the nude.

 

“Tell me what is going through your mind right now, Sarah? What are you thinking?”

 

“I am nervous, but ok. I know that I am naked, but knowing that you can not see my body gives me a sense of security. So I am fine.”

 

“You are right. I can not see your body, but what if I told you right now that seeing your beautiful, curvacious body would please me greatly? How would that make you feel?”

 

“Well…on one hand it would arouse me because a man hasn’t called my body beautiful or curvacious since God knows how long. On the other hand I would make me skeptical because I know that men are full of shit. Just being honest.”

 

“No, you are not being honest. What you just did was add a negative feeling to cancel out what should be your most natural reaction. The pleasure that you have been seeking for so long has eluded you, Sarah, because of you. You tell yourself that men are full of shit because you have yet to learn how to accept the wanting of you by a real man. That natural, innate desire of a man to want what he sees as attractive.”

 

“But Mr. Sinclair, there are men who exist that only want one thing aren’t there?”

 

“Sarah, the men who only want one thing pursue the women who only show themselves of being worthy of one thing. Their mirror reflects exactly what it sees. That is not you. Reflect what you know the world should see, and that is what you will attract. Now I want to see your beautiful, curvacious body. I want to see you right now.”

 

“Should I turn on the light?”

 

“No, Sarah, remember what I said. We create beauty naturally. No visual perceptions. Only reality. Come closer.”

 

Sarah carefully moved forward until she was stopped by the front of Mr. Sinclair’s chair. Positioned in between his legs, Sarah used her arms and hands to cover as much of her breast, and her vagina as she could. The shake of her body caused the chair to vibrate slightly. He closed his legs until they were pressed up against Sarah’s knees to stop her legs from quivering.

 

“Under the veil of darkness you still hide. Stop hiding. Come out, Sarah. I want you to show yourself to me.”

 

Sarah slowly lowered her arms and placed them at her sides. A few moments passed, and Mr. Sinclair still did not lay a hand to her body.

 

“What’s wrong?” Sarah asked, confused as to why she was not being touched. “Did I do something wrong?”

 

“There is nothing wrong, Sarah. Everything is perfectly alright.”

 

“Then why haven’t you touched me yet?”

 

“I am waiting.”

 

“Waiting for what?”

 

“I am waiting for you to tell me that it is alright for me to feel you. You have opened the door, Sarah, now you have to invite me in. Trust that I will be a very welcomed guest into your home. Your very own personal space.”

 

She took a deep breath and invited Mr. Sinclair to feel her body. He still did not move.

 

“Please tell me what I have to do to get you to touch me. I am confused. I don’t know what to do?”

 

“When I invited you into this room, Sarah, I held your hand and guided you inside. I want you to do the same for me. Take my hands in your hands and place them where you want them. Touch your body the way you want a man to touch you.”

 

Sarah grabbed his hands and placed them on the sides of her face.

 

“As you position my hands, Sarah, I want you to explain to me why you put them where you are going to put them.”

 

“I placed your hands on my face because in my mind that is the place that I long for a man to touch. I want them to be gentle with me. To softly grab my face, look into my eyes and kiss me with a nice long passionate kiss. I want to be made to feel like I am more to them than just an object of sexual gratification. I want to be so much more to a man.”

 

“I want to touch you again, Sarah. Where would you like for me to touch you next? Talk to me as you move me.”

 

“Next I would have you move your hands from my face slowly down the front of my body to my breast.”

 

“Very good. Very very good. Why?”

 

“The slow movement really aroused me, and my breast are one of my best features.”

 

Sarah manipulated Mr. Sinclair’s hands so that they began to gently caress her breast. She glided his fingers back and forth over her hardened nipples. He closed his eyes and allowed the sensual feeling to grab hold of him. He inched forward in his chair so that Sarah could feel his erection move slightly against the outside of her leg. They both shared sounds of sensuality before Mr. Sinclair instructed her to continue.

 

“Your right hand would continue to fondle my breast and my nipples, I love the feeling. I am getting so wet from it. I am moving your left hand down the front of my body to my stomach. It is there because it is a part of me. I am not a skinny woman, and I want a man to touch my stomach and love it like he would love my breast, and the rest of me.”

 

He started to rub her stomach as he attended to her breast. He showed it the same love and attention that he gave the rest of her. Sarah’s head drifted back and her mouth opened slightly.

 

“Wow. Mr. Sinclair this feels so good.”

 

“My name is Eric. Call me Eric.”

 

“Yes, Eric. From my stomach the next place you are going to touch will be my pussy.”

 

“How will I touch your pussy, Sarah?”

 

“Gently. Carefully. Slowly. You will take your time on me.” Sarah took possession of the two middle fingers on his hand and placed the fingertips to her clitoris. Move in short circular motions on my clit as you place your thumb slightly inside. That is how you touch me.”

 

Before he allowed this to go any further, Eric removed his hands, and stood to his feet. His body pressed firmly against Sarah’s. She let out a small sound when the bulge of his penis tickled her clitoris. He leaned in close and whispered, “Show me how you would touch me. I am hard, and I want you to touch me. Do it now.”

 

“Should I explain my thoughts as I do?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Judging by the feel of your bulge against my body, I can tell that you are extremely hard right now. That makes me feel good inside to know that my body has that effect on a man. My first instinct is to rub it a little, but I know that men don’t really like that, so I am just going to pull it out.”

 

“Good.”

 

“Feeling you, I want to put your dick in my mouth. May I?”

 

“Yes you may?”

 

Sarah pushed Eric’s body back down into the chair. She swung her head to the side to keep her hair out of her face as she leaned forward to place his dick into her mouth. Keeping with the sensual moment, Sarah gripped the bottom part of his penis and maneuvered her mouth up and down to get it as wet as she possibly could. As she orally performed on Eric, Sarah counted her inner and outer motions (1..2..3..4), before inserting his penis deep into her mouth and pulling it out slowly, tickling each and every inch with her tongue on its way out. She stroked him to spread the saliva based lubrication before once again taking his rod all of the way in. Sarah clinched her jaws and very carefully held Eric in place as she got down on her knees, bending his penis forward and forcing it deeper down her throat.

 

Not being able to take much more oral pleasure before he would ejaculate, Eric told Sarah to stop and stand to her feet.

 

“Was that bad?” she asked before wiping her mouth.

 

“No, Sarah, not at all. That was actually very good. How did it make you feel to do that to me?”

 

“Honestly it was a feeling that I don’t believe I had ever felt. I have given plenty of guys head before, but none that I felt like I actually wanted to do it to. Was more of a job when I sucked their dicks. Now it felt special. Felt like something real. I wanted to please you. Wanted to make you feel as good as you made me feel. It was pleasure. My only question is why did you stop me before I could make you cum?”

 

“I stopped you because our session was not going to end with you on your knees and me ejaculating inside of your mouth. That is not what I want, and that is not what you need right now. You need to be fulfilled. Walk over to the sofa and lay down on your back.”

 

Sarah turned around and did just as Eric ordered.

 

“Sarah the greatest love of all is ones love of them self. You have allowed me to touch you in ways that made you feel good. Ways that satisfied you. You touched me in ways that gave me tremendous pleasure. You unlocked the cage that held your sexual freedom captive and set forth a beautiful, sexual goddess that had never been seen before. Now you will learn to apply that pleasure yourself.”

 

“How. I touch myself often. I am the only one who touches me.”

 

“That may be so, but you have always touched yourself out of loneliness, pity and self loathing. Now, Sarah, you will touch yourself out of love. Are you ready?”

 

“Yes. I am ready.”

 

“Start by controlling your breathing. Slow controlled breaths. Clear your mind of everything. Let go of all negative emotions. Clear your mind completely and just be free. Only concentrate on the pleasure that you are feeling as you touch your pussy, Sarah. Take your mind to the highest place that it can go. Feel nothing but the tips of your fingers on your clitoris. Focus, Sarah. Concentrate every emotion and transfer the feelings of pleasure to only your clit and your fingertips.”

 

Sarah followed his directions to the letter. Her moans began to grow louder and her body writhed uncontrollably.

 

“That’s it, Sarah. Be completely submissive to this feeling. Become a slave to your pleasure. Want it more than anything else at this moment. Each wave of cum that flows through your vagina are all the moments of hurt and pain you have experienced in your life leaving your body. Force them out. Replace them with your happiness. Your satisfaction. Your pleasure. Can you feel it, Sarah. Can you feel your pleasure?”

 

“Yes…oh my God yes I can. Mmmmm it feels so fucking good.”

 

“Now breathe faster. The faster you breathe, Sarah, I want you to match the motion of your fingers. You control it now. You are in control of you. Hold nothing back. This is your moment. Own it.”

 

“I can feel it. It feels so good. Oh God! Mmmmm. Fuck! It feel so good.”

 

“I do not want you to stop until you have no more to give. Enjoy.”

 

Sarah masturbated for the next forty minutes. Once finished, she remained still in the same spot as she called out to Eric. Strangely there was no answer. Sarah sat up on the sofa and as she ran her hands across the couch, she felt something strange. She picked it up and realized that she was holding a mask. She stood up from the sofa, and walked over to where she remembered the light switch to be. Sarah switched on the light and to her surprise she was the only one in the room.

 

Where the he go?

 

Sarah quickly put on her clothes and hesitated before picking up the mask. Upon further inspection, she discovered a small note attached to the inside. She unfolded the note and it read:

 

Sarah, you came to me a shattered and pathetic shell of a woman. Over the course of the night, you realized that your life has meaning, and that you can be free. The mask you are holding represents the mask that you have worn to hide your true self from a society that hates those who choose not to fit in to their societal agenda. Now that your mask is off, you can finally live to be who you were born to be. Until we meet again.

 

ESJ

 

She placed the note into her pocket and walked towards the door. Sarah looked back one last time before she turned out the lights and left the memories of her past life behind.

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