What I Did About My Previous Question

There is more build up to this section, but I hope it stands well on its own.

Please feel free to comment:



Myrna’s fear spiked as the sounds from the room behind her stopped. Her dread built for what seemed an eternity, but was probably only moments. Waiting in the darkness, she had determined to fight the only way she knew how, but when the door behind her finally ground open on rusted runners she had quite reached a peak of fear, and couldn’t regain the composure she needed to find the mental escape of her training.

She could hear a man breathing, even over her own elevated respiration. Myrna repeatedly checked the urge to try and turn to face her captor. If she knew a face, they would be less likely to let her live.

Another lengthy, agonizing wait, the only sound their shared breathing.

“You’re quite the specimen, Miss Graves,” her captor said, now very close. She hadn’t heard his approach, but Myrna recognized the voice of the man who’d drugged her. While his appreciation of her naked body was no surprise, the clinical detachment of his tone was more frightening than anything he might have said. His voice held none of the lust that Yusuf and her other paramours tried to suppress during their games.

“What, no response?”

Not knowing what to do, and the gag preventing any coherent speech, she writhed in helpless fear.

His voice was very close now, “Myrna, Myrna, I don’t want to fuck you, I just want you to confirm a few things for me.”

“Iwelmpwnyting,” Myrna said, desperate for him to know she would tell him anything and everything.

He ignored her words, running a finger along the flesh of her upper arm and down along her ribcage to her waist.

She jumped at the contact, nearly wet herself.

He withdrew the touch, “Such firm resistance, from a plaything such as yourself? I hadn’t thought you would offer any.”

“Nrmph,” she tried to tell him, the denial turning to a wordless scream as he cut her.

Should I Go Graphic Or?

The Last Captain has some pretty intense stuff coming up, and I'm wondering if I should actually write the male torturing a female scene out or gloss over it. I think it might build and develop the torturer quite a bit. We already know he's an evil fucker, but this might assist in developing the creep factor.

The torture victim is no saint, either. Indeed, she's quite the gold-digger, though she has her very legitimate reasons.

On the fence on this one, but I'm gonna write it anyway, just to get it out. I'l decide later on whether to keep it or not.

Just so you know, the novel is already rated R for the violence and language, if nothing else.

Any thoughts, readers? It would be helpful to have your feedback.

Thanks, in advance.

The Torture

I have been doing in-service training for the last few days, and have two more to go. There has been a few very bright spots, one yesterday, and three more of them were today: Instructors who know their shit, clarify shit, and get you excited about the shit.

Yesterday we started with some boring shit taught by someone enamored of the sound of their own voice. I detest it when an instructor adds unnecessary words to what has been covered by the students simply because they feel the need to re-affirm the fact that they are teaching the class.

It was mercifully over in a few hours and the next instructor took us into the CPR and other life-saving stuff. He has some videos meant to chill the blood and has the fantastic delivery method of the natural teacher with years of real world experience dealing with the subject matter.

Today we started with one of the best instructors I have ever had. He was one of the instructors for my academy class ten years ago. He was awesome then, and was again today.

He was followed by a guy who has always impressed me with his talent and intelligence. He was hired about the same time I was, and has done a lot since for the department, getting his law degree and then defending sometimes undeserving officers through innumerable pitchess motions. He kicked ass and took names, despite being ill and being challenged early on by a jackass also training with me.

Then we went to lunch.

We came back to no instructor. Instead we had a State-mandated and created video on racial profiling. This shit was about one hour and twenty minutes long. And that was seventy-five minutes longer than it needed to be.

After the fiftieth misuse of the English language by persons who should know better, I asked if someone would please hit fast forward. No luck. In the end I was literally banging my head against the table, begging for someone to put me out of my misery. It was especially painful given the luminaries teaching us this morning.

Eventually the next session started. Slowly the urge to vomit subsided... This instructor also knew his ass from a hole in the ground. Useful stuff, mercifully concise in delivery.

Next guy was purely interested in getting us all the information in the shortest possible time. Hamstrung by being placed last in the line-up, he still managed to communicate quite a bit to us.

Here's hoping the next two days contain less stupid, and are gooder. Much gooder.