Writing Sin - Chapter One

(Y'all will probably be happy to know that this story is now PUBLISHED! So you can read the first chapter here as a preview. Note: The main characters name is pronounced Ree-ann.)

Writing Sin

Chapter 1

Dear diary,

I have written my second novel of explicit fantasy, and I cannot go on writing these stories as a means to purge my wickedness without an audience to share them with. Seeing as how my husband, not to mention the publishers, and even society itself, would solemnly disapprove and even forbid it, I have created a means of getting published without bringing shame to any of my loved ones. Today, I have created John Dark.

Rian quickly closed her diary, hiding it under the mattress as she heard her husband’s footsteps nearing their bedroom. She loved her husband, she truly did, but he was such a… a… well, a gentleman. Their marriage felt almost as chaste as a nun who has been raised in a convent since she was born. Well... maybe not quite that chaste...

“Rian, my love, may I caress your beautiful hair?” William asked his wife. In response, Rian did what she did every night when he asked this question, she presented her back to him, giving him access to her long burgundy hair. She faked a sigh as he pressed a kiss to her neck, as he did every night, and feigned shyness – to cover her boredom – as he slid her silk robe off her body, same as always...

William picked Rian up and carried her to their bed, gently laying her on it. Rian mentally counted to three then tilted her head back, allowing him better access to press gentle kisses on her mouth.

Oh, how she wished he would do something different! After seven years of marriage, he still treated her as if it were her first time. She was bored to tears of being the wife of the perfect man.

William Wentworth, her husband, was the perfect man. He was kind, courteous, compassionate, generous, a Duke, never cross, always a gentleman, fabulously wealthy, and utterly boring. Sometimes she wondered if he was even really human.

Finally, he was to the part that brought her the most excitement of the entire lovemaking ritual; the part where he gently lay himself on top of her, having spilled his seed inside her. As always, he was asleep within moments, holding her close to him and sleeping as they slept every night since they were married; joined in an embrace, his penis still inside her. This was her favorite part because she was able – once he was safely asleep – to please herself, as she had for more than five of their seven years of marriage. All she had to do was for him to shrink and then she could carefully wiggle out from under him just enough to reach...

She wondered again how it was possible that she was not yet a mother. She truly must have a stubborn womb, for it refused to create new life even though it had her husband’s seed spilled into it every night without fail. It didn't seem fair. Had she done something wrong?

Sighing, Rian fell asleep, reviewing her plans for tomorrow in her mind. First thing, she was off to the bank.

*******

“So as you can see, I need an account where I have control over what is spent and my poor unfortunate cousin can rest assured that his money won’t be squandered by his extravagant habits,” Rian finished explaining to her husband’s most trusted banker.

“Yes, poor wretch, gambling every cent he earns! Not very appropriate behavior for the cousin of a Duchess. Fear not, here are the papers that make everything legal. These state that while your cousin may deposit his money into this account, he may not withdraw a cent without your explicit permission. Furthermore, you have every right to use this account as your own, with a credit line befitting a Duchess,” he stated, handing her the papers he described.

“One last thing, my husband dislikes the very mention of my rogue cousin, and even the slightest mention of his name upsets him so. So, while he knows of and supports my decision to help my cousin, he hates to be reminded of the poor soul, and so…” She paused, wondering if she had carried on a bit too much, but she was worried that the bank manager might forget his duty towards her privacy. The last thing she needed was for her husband to find out about this!

“Ah! Say no more; not a word of this will pass my lips. I understand how discretion is key to successful business relations.”

Rian smiled as this chore was crossed off her to-do list.

Exiting the bank barely ten minutes later, Rian set out to begin her second task on her list. Absentmindedly, she wondered as to how one went about hiring a man to pretend to be an author of erotic novels to protect the image of the female who actually wrote them.

Walking along her favorite street full of shops, her gaze casually surveyed the less fortunate. A man who was breathtakingly handsome caught her eye; he seemed to be decently groomed and he bore an air of determination as he walked along. His pace was neither leisurely nor hurried. Rian got the impression that he was somewhat agitated.

Suddenly, a woman selling flowers tripped over an unexpected rock in her path. As she fell, her flowers scattered everywhere. The man with the determined stride obviously saw what had happened for he stopped to help her up, ask her if she was hurt, and gather her flowers.

Inspired by his show of kindness, Rian hurried towards him, hoping that he would be the perfect man for her needs.

“May I have a word with you sir?” Rian asked him after he had finished gathering the strewn flowers. He cast her a look of disbelief that a well-dressed woman would approach him all alone during the day, and suspicious as to what her intent could possibly be.

“Why?”

“I have a job position open and wondered if you might be interested in taking it,” Rian answered honestly.

“Most likely not,” he answered dismissively, turning to go.

“Please, hear me out, I’ll buy you lunch for your trouble,” she entreated, tugging on his sleeve.

Raising an brow and suppressing a sigh as he looked into her anxious face, it occurred to him that he just couldn't ignore a woman in distress. “Hmm, I guess it couldn’t hurt to listen, could it?”

Elated, Rian noticed that the man knew proper English. If he took the job that would be one more thing she could cross off of her list. Guiding him into a nearby restaurant, she signaled for the host to come to her.

“Grace! What a pleasure it is to have you dine at this restaurant, how may I serve you today?” The host asked her.

“I would like to conduct an interview of a potential new servant, and as I am also famished and simply cannot wait to return home, I request that you seat me in one of your private dining rooms,” Rian ordered without seeming to do so. She was proud of herself for coming up with a plausible explanation should anyone question the man about her actions.

“Of course, as you wish. Follow me.” The host led the pair to a room reserved for the very influential in which no one was allowed to enter without express permission from it’s occupant. It added a small fortune to the price of the meal, but that was of no concern to Rian. After seeing to it that the Duchess was properly seated, the host took his leave.

Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, Rian gave her companion a dazzling smile. “Now sir, you must be wondering why I have offered you a job out of the blue, and I will answer that question, I promise you, but first...” Rian allowed her eyes to roam his handsome face. “If you could tell me your name...?”

How is it possible to be so handsome and not be considered illegal? She wondered as she fought to keep her breathing under control. Calm...

“Darien,” he replied, almost gruffly.

“You see,” she falter, taking a moment to get her mind back on topic. “I have a bit of a problem, and I need to find a person willing to pretend to be someone else in order to correct my problem,” Rian said, wondering just how detailed she could be with this complete stranger.

“In essence, you want me to pretend to be someone I’m not, and in return I’ll get paid,” Darien clarified, mildly intrigued by the prospect.

“Exactly!” Rian beamed. At that moment, one of the waitstaff entered the room. Rian ordered a hearty cut of prime rib and a tall glass of their prized ale for Darien. For herself, she ordered an expensive shrimp cocktail and a pot of her favorite tea. Then, she ordered complete privacy; the only interruption she allowed for was when the food was ready to be served.

“How much can I trust you?” She questioned.

“I must admit, you have certainly peaked my curiosity. I am a man of my word and I give you my word that I will not breathe a word of anything that happens here today; so long as you spare no detail!” Darien pushed aside his misgivings and smiled, warming up to her and the idea of the prime rib being prepared for him.

“I’m a writer, Mr. … um,” grinning becomingly, she realized she didn’t yet know his last name. A soft ah escaped her mouth. “Dear sir, and female writers are frowned upon. Especially if the stories written are of a risqué nature. So, what I need is a male persona to publish under. However, a persona can’t meet with the publishers or attend any parties interested readers invite him to. Therefore, I would like to hire you to play the persona that I have created. Now, it is a little complicated, and there are few bugs to work out, but for your trouble I will pay you a generous monthly stipend,” Rian explained, ending in an excited rush.

“You’d like to pay me to take credit for your work?” Darien asked, his disbelief clearly showing on his face.

“In essence, yes,” Rian sighed, momentarily depressed that such a step was necessary.

“Hmm... do you have a copy I could read? Before I decide whether or not to pretend to have written such a risqué book,” Darien asked playfully, highly curious as to what this beguiling woman could have possibly written that she would need an alias in order to get it published.

“Certainly!” Pleased by his interest, Rian promptly removed the precious manuscript from the hidden pouch in her skirt and handed it to him with a prideful flourish. Just after she did so, the wait staff brought in their meal, set it up quickly, and – after making sure there was nothing further required of them – took their leave.

Darien opened to the first page, disappointed as the novel began rather plainly.

Dear Cherished Reader,

I, as a rake that lurks in the cesspits of the unfortunate, have had in my time the chance to see many outrageous things. Curious as to what it takes to remain living under such conditions, I have consorted with undervirtuous women of the lowest class. In my many consorts, I have had the fortune – or misfortune, depending on how you look at it – to come across a woman – a delectable harlot who somehow possesses the talent of writing – who has done me the favor of setting to paper some of her more delicious exploits. In turn, I shall share with you some of the many miles of use this whore has had put on her body; using her very own words. Warning to you now, this is not for the faint of heart.

Now if, dear reader, I have intrigued you, and possibly whet your carnal appetite, then please, turn the page, and see what glorious taboos await you.

         Once in a while, I have a devious pervert come to call. He gets his kicks by pushing me roughly onto the bed and – using rope that he brings with him for just this sexual purpose – he ties me up like a trussed bird one would make for Christmas dinner. Once I am securely bound, he lays all manner of phallic shaped objects on the table at my bedside, which he removes from a large bag he always carries with him.

Beginning with his favorite toy, a silk whip, he beats me in the most sensual manner, his strokes becoming ever faster, until I am writhing in a mix of agony and bliss. By this time, my sexual juices are oozing out of my womanly orifice. With a perverse cackle, my paying client fiercely inserts the handle of his silk whip – which is made out of a metal akin to steel – into my anal cavity.

“God’s teeth woman!” Darien exclaimed in astonishment. “You can’t seriously hope to publish this… this… literature.”

“And why not?! I happen to know of a publisher that specializes in this sort of novel!” Rian responded indignantly.

“Oh really?” Darien questioned, giving the woman – who was the picture of properly protected innocence – a doubtful look.

Rian pasted the look of patient indulgence that she usually wore around her husband onto her face. She said nothing as she unconsciously held her breath, anxiously awaiting his decision. She prayed that – for once in her 25 years of life, just once – something would go the way that she planned. If he agreed to help her, then she would finally be able to say that she accomplished a goal that she set for herself. Not her husband, or her family, or even society, but she … Why oh why wouldn’t he just decide already?!

While Rian had been reviewing every important decision in her life, all made without her input, Darien had been mentally reviewing his financial situation. He had just come from selling the last item he owned of any value – his dead mother’s wedding ring, which had been intended for his bride, if he ever married again – when this woman had appeared out of nowhere and offered him this… job...

Darien nearly groaned when he thought about how little money he had gotten for his mother’s ring, and how much more he would need to sustain him until school started up again in the fall. Darien briefly wondered why he had followed in his father’s footsteps by becoming a teacher. Hell! he hadn’t even followed in his father’s footsteps yet for his father had been a professor at Oxford who made a more than decent living that enabled him to support his wife and child. But he had not yet earned his Master's degree and was stuck teaching in a poor public school for a meager pittance that had already worn down the modest inheritance that his parents had left him.

Maybe this opportunity was just the thing to help get him firmly back on his feet...

“Well, if you really think that this can get published, then I suppose I would be willing to help make it so,” Darien said, interested in spite of himself.

“Fabulous!” Rian exclaimed. She would have launched into a detailed explanation of her plans, but the host chose that exact moment to enter the room.

“I take it that everything has pleased you, Grace?” He asked leaving off the “your” from her proper title, as was his habit.

“Yes, everything was excellent, as always. I am also delighted to report that my time was used most efficiently as I have gained a new employee. I would like to take my leave soon. Yet, I have not allowed my new employee a sufficient amount of time to eat and would ask that you pack the remainder of his meal up so that he may bring it home with him,” Rian told the host, eager to retire to a place they would not be interrupted.

“Certainly Grace.” The host took Darien’s half eaten plate away to pack up.

“Do you know of a place that we could go to discuss the details of our arrangement in private?” Rian asked.

“I’m certain we would not be bothered if we went to my house,” Darien murmured absently. He'd been absorbed in Rian’s manuscript – which was having an unwanted effect on him – causing him to largely ignore the host and Rian.

Well, maybe not Rian as much as the host!

When the host reentered the room carrying a basket containing the remains of Darien’s lunch, Rian retrieved her manuscript and motioned for Darien to take the basket. After Rian had sufficiently thanked and paid the host, she led Darien out of the restaurant and was immensely pleased to note that none of her acquaintances were dining there at the moment.

“Lead me to your home,” Rian softly ordered.

“My home?” Darien asked, suddenly wondering if she meant to have her way with him. He studied her, noting how truly beautiful she was.

“Yes. You said we could discuss our arrangement without interruption at your home,” she reminded him, somewhat crushing the fantasies that were suddenly running rampant through his mind.

“Oh! Of course,” he blurted, shaking his head to clear out the mental images. “Follow me.”

A few hours later, the two conspirators had discussed and planned out nearly every detail they could think up, and Darien had grown increasingly more curious about his new employer. She fascinated him and aroused him in ways he hadn’t thought possible. Unable to contain his curiosity any longer, he allowed the questions that plagued him to burst forth.

“Tell me about yourself, Grace. Why is it that you write such explicit literature?”

“First of all, my name is not Grace,” Rian admitted with a blush, then babbled in embarrassment. “I have just now realized that I rudely neglected to mention my name! It’s Rian...” She was suddenly aware of a sharp increase in the sensations that had been tugging at her body ever since she first laid eyes on him.

“Secondly, I write the way I do because I have no other way of expressing myself. My husband would be repulsed if he ever knew of my fantasies,” Rian informed him shyly.

“Your husband?” Darien asked in disappointment.

“Yes, He is so utterly proper, and perfect, and boring. He becomes distressed anytime I act with anything other than, well, perfection. And in his mind, anything, well… fun is not perfect. Definitely not acceptable,” Rian explained, trying not to sound unhappy, but somehow not quite managing to hide her feelings.

Darien had a strange and unexpected sensation. It felt something akin to having his heart trampled on by an elephant – he imagined – and so was understandably relieved when she announced that she would take her leave. She promised to return the next day at their previously agreed upon time in order to set their plans into motion.

After she had gone, he wondered why she had made him feel the way she had; feelings that even his not dead wife had made him feel... Unwilling to admit to himself the truth of his feelings, he dismissed them as nothing more than the product of the explicit book she had written. A book with which had to become very familiar by tomorrow in order to fool the publisher into thinking that he had written it!

*******

As Rian walked home, she wondered about the feelings Darien evoked from her. Not having any real sexual experience, aside from her husband, she could only assume she was feeling lust. A feeling she had somewhat become acquainted with while she'd written her erotic novels, but she had never truly experienced it before.

She knew Darien wondered where she had learned about the things she had written. She figured he probably assumed that it was the product of a wild youth, but in truth, she simply listened as her servants gossiped as they went about their daily chores. She had done so ever since she was a teenager. Not knowing she was eavesdropping, the servants had talked freely about their sexual escapades and fantasies. Listening to them had inspired her until she began to have wild fantasies of her own.

A few years after she had been married – a marriage that had been arranged by her parents completely without her input – she started writing her fantasies down. To her disappointment, it never seemed to work as a novel. The fantasies had seemed too girlish; much too childish to ever interest anybody but herself.

In frustration, she paid a visit to a high-class brothel she’d heard a few gentlemen discussing at a party. She explained to the woman in charge that she was having trouble writing a novel that expressed her fantasies and felt that perhaps some research might help her write it better.

Initially, the woman had refused. Rian realized that what she was requesting could put this woman’s reputation in question and offered to pay for her assistance while assuring her that her identity would remain safe. Once Rian had also explained that she was not interested in cheating on her husband, the woman had smiled at her, admiring her courage.

She then led Rian through a maze of secret passageways that connected each room. In the passageways – outside every room, unbeknownst to the clientele – there were chairs that the woman and an extremely limited number of her clients could sit upon while watching the antics of the occupants inside.

Rian wondered how it was they could see inside without being seen themselves. Selena, the woman who owned the brothel, explained that they were special mirrors that reflected inside just like any other mirror, but appeared as a window to them.

Abruptly, Rian was pulled from her thoughts as her gardener greeted her. Rian marveled at her ability to walk all the way home even as her head was in the clouds. Must be from long habit...

Anxious to get the day over with so she could begin on her list of things to do tomorrow, Rian went straight to her room, as was her habit. On her way, she heard two maids talking as they aired out one of the guest rooms.

“A sheep!” One exclaimed.

“Disgusting, ain’t it?” The other remarked.

“But why would a man even want to do that?” The first asked.

“From what I’ve heard, it’s because sheep feel just like a woman, only smaller. I imagine that would excite any man who has a wee prick – What was that?” The second maid asked, interrupting herself.

Rian wondered that as well for the noise had been a loud crash coming from the direction of the kitchen, which was at the bottom of the servant’s staircase that she was standing right next to. Thinking quickly of the best way not to get caught eavesdropping, Rian entered the room just as they were coming to investigate.

“Find out what happened, and let me know as soon as possible.”

“Yes, my Lady!” The maids curtseyed.

She exited the room gracefully, crossed the hall, then entered her marital suite. Her mind was buzzing with ideas! If a man would have sex with a sheep, what else would he have sex with?

She pulled out her diary and wrote down that very question along with a list of animals that might make credible bed partners. She then decided that during the party they were to attend tonight, she would plead a headache and insist that her husband remain. That would leave her free to visit Selena to conduct some research. If anyone could help her figure out how to write about sex with animals, it would be Selena. After all, she'd claimed long ago that she had seen every sexual act imaginable...

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