Journals of a Psychopath



Oh dear, Clarkson has to face his evil mother.

The Isolation Chamber

Cascading into folds, the pure white silk drapes of the four-poster marvelous, and the silver breastplate was polished to perfection it glimmered in the candlelight. On the bedside slab, the sword, and I clutched the silver shield. The Lady Flarice closed her vista-orbs and they snapped open when she heard my words.
      “Lady Flarice it is nearly time to consummate the marriage you are my bride and I am your Knight, I accept the Declarer, the Purifiers and the Archangel, I accede to them.”
The pure white silk wedding robe was designed for accessibility at the front, the small silver hooks tormented. Gaining admission and Lady Flarice’s delectable breasts were enclosed in the pure white silk-lace bra. With rampant euphoria, I released her rounded body parts, Lady Flarice’s mouth unlocked received my tongue, and I gently rolled it across her teeth.
She strained under me and Lady Flarice’s whole body cried out to me. Smithson gawked through the hole in the wall and I imagined his fever pitch, my Lady Flarice belonged to me and certainly not him. He would find his own Lady Flarice. Kindling a death-stick and my manhood impressive, she pled with her eyes.
“Will I live, because I am your bride?”
I focused on her and reveled in the nature of the psychopath.
      “Only the Idols can stop me now.”
Perusing Lady Flarice’s vulva I found it hard to tolerate the tension, Smithson's lips released a long sigh.
      “Depart,” the Presenter said.
Smithson and I were furious and fettering her Smithson sulked. However, Smithson rallied me.
      “Look to the time when you can accomplish your purpose,” he said.
      “I cannot understand why the Trees stopped me.”
      “Remember they prevented you from killing Steadman perhaps it is a similar situation you must trust the Purifiers.”


She looked tense, her eyes were down, and the mood in the room was thick with anxiety.
Pouring the beverage and handing the cupcakes to Smithson, Elaina was perturbed. Smithson guzzled his brew in his usual fashion and Smithson stroked Growler. Quaking and mother's outsized physique seemed ridiculous, mother’s laughter exploded.
      “We ought to do this more often.”
      “Mrs. Samuel I think your son strangling you is not a laughing matter.”
      “Quiet child this is between me and him shall we do this again?”
      “Yep, mother dear it was enjoyable I relished my hands around your more than substantial throat.”
      “You have grown a pair of balls.”
She widened her eyes and drinking the coffee quietly, mother blew on hers, an air bubble formed, and mother popped the thin globe shaped film.
      “I should have gotten rid of you Hanson was my favorite and you did not feature.”
      “I accept Hanson was your beloved and yet he is gone.”
      “How is Charlenson? As anemic as ever I presume and your sibling exasperates me nearly as much as you do.”
      “Charlenson is near death Darlenson dear.”
Mother glared I could see the hatred in her steel-gray scary eyes, mother took a step toward me, I gave way and mother cackled.
      “Your new found courage has deserted you,” mother said.
I was not comfortable, but my pride did not allow me to stop visiting mother I wanted to prove to her that I was not afraid of her. Smithson shifted in his seat I suggested we leave, that time Elaina did not stay with mother.

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