Seeking Editor

Otto26

Inconsistent
Joined
Mar 7, 2006
Posts
1,518
The title conveys the important portion of this. More detail:

I write fairly tame material and make an effort to really create a mood. My material is heterosexual, with the obligatory bi-sexual female material thrown in, and focuses as much on the plot as the sex. I include non-consensual material but it isn't glossed over and I think I avoid much of the misogynistic philosophical clap-trap that I see all over the internet. My work is also lengthy and, to be honest, rough as hell.

I'm looking for someone who enjoys this type of material and has the patience to work with a difficult author. I assure you that I am not deliberately obtuse and warn you that I write in my spare time, which is fairly limited. Contact me by PM if you are interested. I would prefer to see some other stories you have edited, if possible. Below is a sample of my work. Did I mention lengthy? :)

Only one shot was fired, and the attack was over in less than five minutes, but it was the most violent event she had ever witnessed. Young Henri, the boy soldier assigned by the Ministry to accompany her, was the victim of the single shot. It splattered blood and brain matter all over her, stunning her into total immobility. For the entire attack she stood there, staring at the gore covering her clothing and feeling the warm trickle of urine running down her legs. The soldiers worked methodically, moving from house to house with practiced ease, sweeping from one edge of the village to the other. As they passed her, an enormous man pointed at her and yelled. A smaller man trotted over and knocked her to ground with indifferent violence. He placed a foot on her neck, pinning her face to the earth. Those villages that fled discovered that other soldiers awaited them; the net to the first groups beaters.

The small soldier kicked her to her feet and pushed her roughly towards the center of the village. When they arrived, he kicked her legs from beneath her, forcing her to kneel with the rest of the villagers. The enormous soldier yelled a few commands and soldiers hurried to obey. Some began searching the houses, others scurried off in multiple directions with purposeful looks. The leader began to speak to the villagers in a firm tone. She understood none of what he said, but the villagers seemed resigned.

When the man finished speaking he began to walk through the crowd pointing to villages. Subordinates followed him, hauling those he selected over to a separate area. She barely registered being selected and half-dragged to the other group or being herded over to a pile of goods and being handed a large sack of rice. She and the others were marched out of the village, through the fields, and into the jungle. That was the moment when it all caught up with her and she screamed and fell to her knees, vomiting and shaking uncontrollably. The soldiers were unsympathetic and solved the problem by kicking her until she picked up the bag of rice and followed the column deeper into the jungle.

They marched through the day, stopping once a sunset to be given a drink and to have a rope attached to their waist; the entire column of baggage carriers were tied together. When this was done, they marched again. The night was something she would never forget. A hell of sweaty, blind exertion marked by periodic falls to the ground, either from losing her footing or being dragged down when the person in front of or behind her fell. Close to dawn the column stopped and a few shouts were heard from the front. After a few minutes, much longer than it usually took to get someone back on their feet, the column started forward again. In a minute she stumbled over the reason for the delay, a corpse.

When dawn broke the column came to an aburpt halt. The coffled porters stood in abject exhaustion, too tired even to find the willpower to fall to their knees. The leader of the group came over and undid the rope securing her. Knocking the sack of rice from her numb grasp he dragged her behind him. They came to a man seated on a rock and peering at a map. He looked up as they approached and, even through the haze of terror and exhaustion, she noted that he was not black. The white man looked at her with exasperation and asked something of the black man. He in turn launched into an explanation that ended when he tossed her satellite phone, from the Land Rover she realized, into his lap and turned and walked away. The white man looked at her for a long moment before speaking.

"Sind sie Deutsch?"

"Francais?"

"English?"

"American," she replied. "I'm American."

He nodded. "You have been well and truly fucked by fate, my countryman. My name is Robert Taliaferro. I can tell you this because you're supposed to be dead. I told them to shoot anyone who might be trouble. Do you know why you are still alive?"

She mutely shook her head.

"You're alive because I have no intention of dying of AIDS. So while my merry band of murderous boys have raped their way across a fairly broad swath of this God-forsaken country, I have been celibate. And because I like being able to sleep at night I haven't insulted them by telling them that I don't want to contract some disease from the women they offer to share. I have told them that I only fuck white women. So when they found you, they brought you to me. They reasoned that you were as good as dead, so I could have a little fun with you before they actually shot you. What I should do is rape you and cut your throat. I find myself unable.... no. Unwilling. I won't sink that low. So, you have two options. You can die now or you can come with me and probably die later."

He squatted down next to her and took her chin between the fingers of one hand, lifting her face until her eyes met his. He searched for and, finally, found a spark of comprehension. His next words were low and barely audible.

"I swear to you by what little I hold dear that if you choose to die now it will be painless. If you choose to come with me I will bring you out with me or I will die in the attempt. But if you come with me you'll do anything I say, and you'll hop to it. Do you understand?"

She nodded weakly and he shook her head sharply.

"Do you understand?"

She nodded again, this time with vigor.

"Choose."
 
You had me at "obtuse".

PM me. My plate is filling quickly.
 
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