Finding an Editor Ch. 03

If you just started reading my work, you may want to read the first two chapters before you read this one. It will make more sense.

*****

I liked the reverend at my church. Slightly younger than me, late forties I'd say, he was about the most earnest and forthright person I ever encountered.

He had a mentor. An older preacher now in his early sixties, who had welcomed him into his first church, guided him along, warned him of pitfalls and temptation. Then he retired from the church and started an evangelical society, doing crusades in local high school football stadiums and community centers.

Robert, my preacher, was very proud of his growing success, even helping out on occasion. Brother Jim, as he now liked to be called, seemed to grow larger as his fame grew. Gone were the cheap suits and barely working PA systems, replaced by Saville Row and state of the art sound and lighting systems large enough for the football stadiums he now favored. Bought some air time at a local television station and started an hour long broadcast.

He actually preached one Sunday at my church, and Robert was almost in a nervous jerk.

I looked at his expensive suit, his impossibly bright silver hair contrasting nicely with his deep tan, amazing really, since it was February.

He charmed, flirted, glad handed with skill that was so practiced it came across as natural. He reminded me of an old time snake oil salesman.

When we shook the mutual dislike was instant, and he stayed as far away as possible.

I wrapped a penny inside a five dollar bill when they collected a special 'love offering' later for his crusades. I hope whoever counted the money got the point.

Four months later the scandal hit. He had been the target of a federal investigation that resulted in multiple charges. Some of his victims came forward, hoping to make a buck off the public. He'd had multiple encounters with both sexes, not always with consent or with people of legal age. In the end he was charged with statutory rape, date rape, possession and use of illegal substances, crimes against nature, embezzlement, wire fraud, and money laundering. He took a plea deal when a possible murder was discussed, going in to prison at sixty seven to do at least twenty years before possibility of parole.

Robert was devastated. About six weeks later he did a sermon on moral character and temptation.

"Temptation, great and small, surrounds us all. I have sadly discovered that average people tend to handle it pretty well as they struggle through their lives, aware of the cost, so they're rarely tested beyond control. It's when someone hits a level of success that elevates them above the crowd, when fortune and fame comes, that their true character is tested. Most of us can't handle that sort of success. Look in the papers on any given day, you'll find singers, actors, sports figures, politicians, even, sadly, men of the cloth that succumb.

It saddens me deeply to see these people, usually at the very pinnacle of their careers, fall. They above us all should be grateful for the bounty God has given them. Instead they squander their success in thoughtless acts of lust and abandon.

My earnest admonishment to you, my friends, is to remember this sermon should success ever find you. I pray God gives you the strength it takes to remain centered when it does."

I've thought of that sermon often in recent times, wishing I had paid more attention.

...

I never truly realized what Benny had to go through.

Following directions from Beth, I pulled all my stories off the site[you can't give it away when you're trying to sell it], worked up an outline, and redid them to establish continuity. The final four chapters were completely new. Even though the story was basically written, it still took six months to complete it, another three to edit and do the rewrites, before it was ready to publish.

Of course, I used the same team as Benny, from Beth to Saul, with Etta and Grace.

Saul loved it, as did Beth. Grace said it wasn't her cup of tea, and Etta just grinned and called me a GILF of epic proportions

The buzz created by them and my obvious connection to Benny gave me a leg up. When it was released it only took three months to hit the bestsellers list. At one time Benny's new book and "Plum" were ranked two and three. Etta got us on Sunday Morning, where we were being touted as the power couple of the literary community.

Mo Rocca did the interview, spending two days with us at home before bringing in the cameras.

Benny even taught him how to catfish, down to how to clean and cook them. He didn't seem to mind, but admitted he wasn't fond of the taste. Made great footage, though.

The actual interview went pretty smoothly. He asked us both about our current books, talked a little about our history. Finally he hit me with the big question, grinning.

"Are the characters in your book based on real life people? Say you and Benny, perhaps?"

I flamed red while Benny laughed softly. He answered for me.

"Yes and no, Mo. Obviously we're not a hardbodied, over endowed couple in our early thirties, but we've had our moments. Very pleasant moments. But the fact is we're just a small town couple in our midfifties. As much as we'd like to do some of the things in the novel, the fact is we're just not that flexible or energetic any more. Bonnie just has a really good imagination and it seems, an insight into that lifestyle that makes it believable."

I couldn't have said it better.

When we were home, which wasn't as often as I liked, we rarely went out, and only socialized with our old friends. Sadly, we weren't the trusting people we once were.

Hilda lost her job in the economic downturn, and they were strained financially. It hurt when the mother of the twins disappeared, leaving no forwarding address and stopping her child support payments.

We knew we had to tread carefully to spare their feelings, but came up with a plan. Hilda had at one time been a PA to a textile executive, so I offered her a job. The fact was it had come to the point that I really needed one, and she was perfect. Part of the terms of her employment was housing. Their apartment had become too small with two teenage girls sharing one bedroom, so we moved her into my old house, rent free. She cried for two days, while her husband was both embarrassed and grateful.

"Don't worry about it," I told them both as they moved in, "it does a house no good to stand empty. This way I can be sure it's taken care of."

Sarah had finally lost thirty pounds, and her husband made her stop.

"I want there to still be enough of you to grab on to," he told her, grabbing one of her still massive breasts, "I loved you as you were before, and I love you now. So stop, please."

...

I was doing the publicity thing, television appearances and book signings. Benny was doing the same for his new book, even though with his reputation he really didn't have to. He told me you should never forget the one that brought you to the dance, so he still followed the program. It worked out great when he rearranged as much of his schedule as he could to be in the same town as me, but it wasn't that often. We were apart for extended periods of time for the first time in our marriage, and neither of us liked it.

Hilda couldn't travel with me because of the girls, so Etta sent one of her assistants with me on those occasions. Her husband had been doing much better, so she started taking on more clients. I didn't like the assistant much, Beverly seemed to be a little too enthusiastic.

One night I was doing a signing. It was my fifth in four days, and I was tired, so I missed a lot of signals. One man, a huge guy badly shaven, came through the line twice.

The second time he smiled.

"Do you feel it? The connection, I mean."

"I feel a connection to all my readers," I said tiredly, not paying attention.

After time was up, I chatted with the owners of the bookstore, called Beverly to come get me, and relaxed with a cup of coffee. I figured she should be just about there, so I walked outside into the warm spring air.

I never saw him coming. He had me up off my feet and headed towards a van before I could react. Beverly pulled into the lot, saw me, pulled in front of the van, laying down on the horn. When she completely blocked him in, she locked the doors and called 911. He tried to drag me on foot but I fought him as hard as I could. When I bit his hand and ripped out a chunk of flesh, he dropped me and ran away.

The police ran the license on the van, and caught the guy the next day. I was taken to the hospital for observation and stayed twenty four hours. The man was later declared unfit for trial and would spend three years in a criminal mental institution.

Benny dropped what he was doing and rushed to my side. It really scared us both. Benny thought I needed a little protection, and he talked to Mike Hogue. Two days later a tall, soft spoken gentleman named Mark showed up. He was former military and police, leaving the force on medical disability after he was shot in a hostage situation. Physically he was in top shape as long as he didn't have to exert himself for long periods. Mike had met him on the first vacation he had taken with his future wife, and they had hit it off. When his career was over and his marriage crashed, he needed a job, so Mike hired him.

I don't think he actually worked for Mike, more like a subcontractor. But he was big, charming, and capable. We worked out a signal system, and he'd hang around in the back unless I needed him.

There were a few more uncomfortable moments, but usually one look at Mark nipped everything in the bud.

I was changing. Looking back now, I know it wasn't for the good. When everyone around you is waiting for an opportunity to kiss your ass, your natural inclination to let them grows exponentially. I guess what really happened is I went from a happy housewife to an entitled diva.

The fame, the power, it all proved to be too much.

...

Benny saw it coming, and tried to talk to me.

"Believe half of what you hear and experience, honey. The thing to bear in mind is ninety per cent of the people you're around aren't really there for you. They're there because they want something from you."

I had never been much of a drinker, but had developed the habit of having one or two late in the evening to help me sleep. Pretty soon I was having one or two during the early evening, to help me relax. I probably would have never said what I did if I hadn't been on my fourth gin and tonic of the night.

"Beverly said this would happen. I just didn't believe her."

He seemed confused. "She said what would happen?"

"That you'd resent my success. That you'd be jealous."

I can still remember the look on his face, even now.

"I am jealous. Jealous of the time your success takes away from us. But that's it. I'm proud of your accomplishments. You deserve your fame."

I felt pretty rotten then, and the old Bonnie surfaced.

"Sorry, honey. I don't see how you handle it. I'll really be glad when my fifteen minutes are up."

He relaxed a little, started massaging my feet, something I'd really missed. I sighed in contentment.

"Good. I've got other projects I need help on that doesn't involve any writing at all. Like the studio, for instance."

He'd already finished his book tour and had put writing on hold for awhile. Oh, he still scribbled notes, but wasn't serious. Beth was a little concerned, because he still owed the house one more book, but he reassured her.

"I'm not working on anything new, Beth, but I've got one already done, I just need you to work your magic on it."

She demanded to see it but he told her it needed a little more work before she could have it, and since he still had six months to turn it over he was in no hurry.

He had a new passion right now, making films and television shows.

...

He found a group of three buildings, enormous structures that had become empty when the recession hit and business went overseas. We looked them over, using Hilda and her expertise to get a really good deal, and moved the production company we had started to our hometown.

The smallest building was the office complex, the next largest was cut into small rooms for editing film and sound, plus one small sound stage. The biggest was split into two larger spaces.

We actually became one of the largest employers in town, if you count the extras we used on a regular basis.

Benny had hired three young but very capable screenwriters and put them to work on his latest productions.

It came to him one night while he was missing me, and he was reading some of the older stories on the website we started out on. About two thirds of the stories ranged from unreadable to disgusting, but the other third told stories, the top ten per cent told good stories. He focused on those, got hold of the two best sites, and brokered a deal. In exchange for two per cent each of his company, they would contact the writers of the stories he liked and offer them a chance to see their stories on television, in exchange for the proper fee, of course.

He picked four of the best, made two into hour long shows, one into a movie, and the last into a four part miniseries. He struck a deal with HBO because he thought it was the best fit.

One of the hour long shows bombed, but the other and the movie were moderately successful. The miniseries was a huge hit. HBO committed to twenty more one hour shows, three movies, and four miniseries, all from stories from the sites.

He gave each of his regular writers a team. One did the movies, the other the shows, the last the miniseries. The housing market in our town became one of the hottest in the country.

Since, of course, they were adult sites, most of the content was sexually oriented. He did find a few in non erotic sections that he made and pitched to other networks with a great deal of success.

He pretty much bribed as much of our family as he could to come work for us. They came gradually, afraid it wasn't going to last. But when our production company won an Emmy for the miniseries, and another for screenwriting on one of the movies, almost all our children moved home.

We ended up buying part of the old farm next to our property and used it to make a family compound, complete with private roads and security.

I was making excellent money on my book, not anywhere near what Benny made, but still a nice sum. I put it all into trust funds for the grandchildren. Their college was already paid for, so it would be a nice nest egg for a house or whatever they wanted out of life.

I was home for two weeks before going on the last leg of my book tour. As I wandered across the film complex, my first serious look at it in a few months, I was amazed at the changes. I found Benny in his office.

"Honey, can we afford all this? How much money do we have now?"

He looked at me and smiled. We were still amazed at how little money meant to us.

"I'm not sure. Will had to hire two full time people so he could concentrate on us. He insists we come up once a month for a review, but I haven't had time this month. Wanna fly up, bite the Big Apple, see a show, and catch up?"

It sounded like an excellent idea. We spent four days with our friends, saw two shows, hit a few nice restaurants. It was the most relaxed we'd been in a long time. Plum even made a brief but very erotic appearance.

I had gotten a little soft and had been toning up. I was showering before going out, Benny was meeting with Saul and Beth, and had a little time on my hands. I looked at myself critically. Despite being slightly plumper,I was still in good shape, especially for my age. I absently traced the small tattoos I had, smiling.

Rubbing the little dark plum, I let my hand slip down, opening my vagina. I almost laughed, hearing Plum in my head.

"That's the difference between you and me. You have a vagina. I have a pussy. And all men love pussy."

"It's not always about sex, you know. Sometimes it's just about the connection between two souls."

Damn, I thought, I'm losing it, mentally arguing with my alter ego.

I could see her smirk.

"And sometimes a cigar isn't just a cigar, it's a honkin' big phallic symbol. Think about it, when was the last time you fucked him senseless? How often has romance and connection left you almost comatose in a puddle of your own fluids, with a grin dynamite couldn't blast off? Face it girl, as much as any man likes to make love, they still love a good shot of hot, steaming pussy. Sometimes it's about the physical. If you've forgotten that, you're in serious trouble. But don't sweat it, little Plum is ready to take up your slack. When I'm done with him, he'll be glad to crawl back to some safe little lovin'."

The whole imaginary conversation left me a little uncomfortable. We had slowed way down on the sex due to time apart, business considerations, and plain old exhaustion. I sighed.

"All right, bitch. Take a shot. But remember, as much as he likes fucking you, he loves me. Sooner or later he'll get tired of you, and I'll have him all to myself again."

I could feel the bitch grin.

"Keep tellin' yourself that, honey. If you repeat it often enough, you might make yourself believe it. Now shoo, I gotta get ready. I got a man I intend to fuck senseless coming by."

One of the great things about having plenty of money and being in New York City is that you can get anything you want anytime you want. I made a few calls, took a cab to my destination, and shopped. It was a VERY high end sex shop, confidentiality was guaranteed. If they didn't have what you wanted it hadn't been thought of yet. There was a rumor that for an additional fee you could get any combination of male and females acceding to your every whim.

I selected a few things, ordered a few more, and was back in the suite before Benny got out of his meetings. I sent him a short message.

"Dinner will be in tonight. Plum showed up out of the blue, damn I thought I was rid of that bitch.

I won't be around tonight, so use her any way you want, try to get her out of your system. Maybe if you're rough enough she won't be back. She said be there by seven."

...

Benny almost ran into the suite. calling my name. When I refused to answer he changed his tone.

"Plum! Where the hell are you?"

"I'm in the bedroom, lover. I'd come out but I'm a little tied up right now."

I wasn't a little tied up. I was a lot tied up. I'd followed the directions carefully, and when I pulled the last strap tight and heard it click into place I shuddered, knowing I was truly restrained until someone else released me.

I was trussed up, spreadeagled, completely open and helpless. My outfit was mostly leather straps and fine chains, that could be spread to provide access without the necessity of removal, or unsnapped with ease. The room was lit with candles, and there were two small tables, one holding toys, the other finger foods. I hoped he was pleased. I had also lubed myself liberally, in case he was in a hurry.

He paused for a second, enjoying the view, before approaching the bed. Stopping to inspect the tables, his grin became huge. He held up a device that seemed to be a battery pack with two small clamps.

"What's this?"

I actually blushed, which he found very amusing.

"It's nipple clamps with an electric stimulator. It sends small electric shocks to them, in varying strengths. It even has an auto option, that sends out shocks of different levels in random patterns."

One thing I had learned early with Bennie. He loved my nipples, and I had come to love how he played with them, orally and manually until they were extremely sensitive. So it was no surprise that he had them attached in seconds. Thankfully they didn't grip too tightly, but I almost came off the bed when he turned it on the first time.