Journals of a Psychopath

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No matter how he wants to Clarkson the psychopath cannot kill the Lady Flarice. She winds up incarcerated in the isolation chamber, Clarkson's slave and maimed. However, that is at the end of the novel, lots of interesting things happen before that, and the story is magnificent.

Smithson the psychopath’s son

      “How is Smithson?” I asked.
      “He is fine,” Rheanna replied.
Concentrating on the embers and hoisting the poker, I began to rebuild the fire with the logs residing in the huge brass bucket by the side of the hearth.
The housekeeper came into the room.
      “I hope you enjoy this.”
Elspeth was carrying a tray weighted down with espresso and homemade cookies.
At the huge shiny breakfast table, Rhea’s hand quivered, and she discharged the espresso.
      “Would you fetch the brandy?” She asked Elspeth.
Our glances met and she uplifted the coffee cup to her lips. Elspeth shuffled to the unit and brought the brandy, Rheanna decanted generous tots into our beverage.
      “Are you still seeing Jayne?”
      “Sure.”
I gloated a flash of sufferance was in her eyes and they became red.
      “Are we not good enough for you?”
      “When I am not with you I can see whom I want, those are the terms and conditions of the relationship.”
Rheanna accepted the stipulation and she changed the subject.
      “I will raise Smithson suitably,” Rheanna said.
      “He will be reared in the ways of his father.”
Gripping her waist and I kissed Rhea’s lips with strength attractive to her, Rheanna melted into my arms, and kissed me back. The table withstood our weight, Rheanna investigated as I unbuttoned her top. Pulling the zipper, our image reflected on the polished wood. Yanking Rheanna's clothes off, she clutched me tight, and her orgasm was slow. Rhea raked her nails down my back and Rhea’s climax was still radiating through. Rheanna’s mood soon changed, when I relocated, I was leaving, and she was torn apart, as I marched from the room.

A Journey in the dream

Traversing through the forest and it was dense I knew Sir Richard would be following us. Lady Flarice was tired and she was frightened, but I pressed onward. An old hunting lodge appeared in the trees and it was available to provide shelter. Setting fire to the lumber and she watched.
      “We will trek by nightfall, Sir Richard expects us to travel in the light from the sun.”
Abandoning the lodge to search for food and I triumphed. Returning to the cabin, I saw her cheeks were plumped, Lady Flarice’s lips full and scarlet.
The Lady Flarice stirred, I scrambled to the conflagration, and added extra wood the flares lit the room, and were flamboyant. Orange flames played across Lady Flarice’s face. She closed her vista-spheres when I skinned the prey, she was squeamish, but no doubt, she would soon eat the food when it was cooked. Dancing, the meat was forgotten, and twirling to the Lady Flarice, she was bewildered. I confiscated the hairpins and her hair spilled from the constraints. Lady Flarice sat on the floor and her tresses were long, covered half of her face. Her breasts swelled with distress I had never seen Lady Flarice so beautiful. I took her in my arms, she resisted, but then she relaxed. The Lady Flarice returned the kisses and on the floor we copulated, her body synchronized with mine, it was sublime, she screeched with pleasure. When it was done, the agitation returned.
      “My wrath has sprung forth stronger than before, you enjoyed Sir Richard and I am so mad.”
      “It is just a dream none of it is real,” Lady Flarice replied.

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