Love and Darkness (might change title)

Love and Darkness (might change title) Love and Darkness (might change title)

Status: In Progress

Genre: Erotica



Status: In Progress

Genre: Erotica



Charles Wilburn is a divorced man of 50 with 2 children, a problem ex-wife and blood on his hands. Wynter is an artist and designer in the BDSM community trying to heal from the damage that her ex-husband caused her. Charles finds balance with her and Wynter finds her strength again but both get blindsided when Charles' work puts her in danger.


Charles Wilburn is a divorced man of 50 with 2 children, a problem ex-wife and blood on his hands. Wynter is an artist and designer in the BDSM community trying to heal from the damage that her ex-husband caused her. Charles finds balance with her and Wynter finds her strength again but both get blindsided when Charles' work puts her in danger.

Chapter1 (v.1) - Family Night

Author Chapter Note

Once a month Charles and his siblings get together. This night is a little different.

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: February 25, 2017

Reads: 1495

Comments: 1

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: February 25, 2017



It had been a long, long day for Charles. Working as a professional interrogator could be a bit draining and messy, especially when a child involved. A man had kidnapped over twenty-five children and killed each and ever one of them. He had been on the run for almost five years until the FBI finally caught him. They had discovered that he had taken yet another child and were trying to get him to confess. For ten hours he remained silent so they took him to a black site and contacted Charles.

Now Charles was not FBI but he was former military. His experience with special forces made him a valuable asset to many people in powerful places. Charles had one-hundred and twelve confirmed solo kills under his belt.  Eighty-nine of them while he served and twenty-three in interrogation. He enjoyed his freelance work. It gave him the opportunity to travel and work for different governments and  those with special interests.  When he was called in it meant the threat was serious. He was hired to get information by any means necessary and that day it meant tying down that monster, covering his face with paper cuts type cuts inflicted with his favorite blade and dunking the sick man's head in a bucket full of saltwater before shooting him in both his knees. He confessed and the information he spilled in between crying from the pain helped save a little girl and locate the remains of the innocent victims.

It was a long day indeed and after taking two showers he headed to a restaurant downtown to meet his little sister. The hostess showed him to the bar where his sister sat with a whiskey glass in hand. Amber was a southern girl with a love for whiskey. She developed that taste from their father who only drank three things, water, coffee and whiskey.  Usually her wild and curly red hair was out but tonight she wore it straightened and up in a single ponytail. Her bangs were cut perfectly so not to hide her blue eyes. He sat down on the barstool next to her and poked her arm.

"You're late." She sat her glass on the counter and turned in her seat towards him. She was wearing a dark blue wrap dress and their mother's pearl necklace. 

"It's been a day little sister." He waved at the barkeep and requested a shot of his own.

"Seriously Charles, it's siblings night! We do this once a month." She whined and it reminded Charles of the time when their parents were alive and they had family night. She would whine because she wanted to sit in the middle in the backseat using the fact that she was the only girl as an excuse.  She usually got her way. 

"Yeah, and your other big brother lucked out and is missing this because someone in his church is sick."

"Well he is their pastor and he does do hospital visits." 

Their brother Richard was a Pastor with a congregation of three thousand people. Even though he had so many people in the church he never took them for granted like some pastors did. He always made himself available and even visited homes for dinner. The church was built and maintained by the members and he preached of love, peace, mercy and the power of forgiveness. Forgiveness was a big test for Richard when the  man who killed their parents was found. Richard prayed for what seemed like weeks until the trial and forgave the man in court while Amber glared at the man through tears. Charles was still in the military at the time and forgiveness was not his strength.  He showed no emotion when the man was found guilty of burglary and murder and received a death sentence and when the time came he had a front row seat to the man's lethal injection.

"So why are you on my case and not his?" Charles chugged his shot and slammed the glass on the counter frat boy style.

"I'm not on your case and Richard was on his way but one of his members was just diagnosed with cancer so he gets a pass." She took a sip of her whiskey. "What's got you in this piss poor mood?"

"Let's just say two showers were not enough. I think I need some bleach for my brain." He sighed and kissed his sister's cheek. "But hey, it's siblings day and family is just what I think will improve my mood."

"Good." Amber didn't know the details of  her brother's work but she knew it involved finding people and she understood that did not always have a happy ending. 

Charles grabbed her hand and helped her down off the barstool. After he paid for their drinks they left the restaurant. It was a nice summer night as they walked to the art gallery.

"So are you still doing the poly thing?" 

Amber laughed. "Yeah, I'm still doing the poly thing. Justin is a really great boyfriend and Sara is amazing. I love her and she is more than a friend, she's like my sister."

"Sister wives?"

She stuck her tongue out at him. "I thought it would be hard. I won't lie, I honestly thought that I would  be jealous or insecure. That maybe he was just trying to not commit to me in a way but it works. It's just us three. Sara and I love him. Taking care of the house and errands has never been easier.  It's not traditional but we're happy."

"Well as long as you are happy little sister. That's all that matters to me."

They arrived at the gallery and Charles opened the door. A waiter in all black met them at the door with a tray offering champagne. They each took one and began their journey through the brightly lit gallery.  The room was full of fashionable men and women making Charles look like a broke college professor in his blazer with elbow patches and dark jeans. He and sister were admiring a self portrait by one of her favorite artist when Charles heard a sound of disgust behind them. He turned to see small group of women and a few men staring at a painting on the wall in front of them. Feeling curious Charles ventured over to see what the fuss was about.

"Cheap sex would be the appropriate title for this smut." Charles looked at the artist information box beside the painting and so that it was titles, 'Losing the Fight'.

The painting was done in somber grays and abyss blacks. It was of a young woman who appeared nude even though the painting was done from the tops of her breasts and up. One could tell she was laying down on her back by the way her hair was sprawled out around her. This woman in the painting was not society's traditional idea of beauty with her plump face and the lines on her collar bone and neck from the size and heaviness of her breasts. Her full lips were parted but only slightly and her hands were above her head with her wrists in iron shackles. The only white in the painting was a speck in both her eyes that seemed to be to be full of fear and longing.

" I must say I disagree. This painting matches its given title very well."

"Is that so? All I see is a naked chubby girl trying to be, what some in low circles, would call kinky."

"Must not be so low if you know of it." Charles smirked and took a sip of his champagne.

The woman's face turned red. "And what exactly do you see? Sex?"

"I see a girl who is fighting against darkness and losing."

"Please. That simple isn't what's there. This is smut. Nothing more. It's a shame that the gallery would even waste precious space giving it to someone so unimaginative. The artist is not that deep."

"Actually Ma'am, it is you who is unable to see the true meaning of this painting because you fail to have an open mind. But one does not need an open mind when all one cares about being seen and coming to galleries because it's fashionable." 

The woman glared at him and clicked her tongue before leaving with her group but one young woman stayed behind. She was short, about five feet or so with skin the color of cinnamon. Her eyes were like the earth and her hair was big, natural, wild like a lion's mane and a dark shade of pink. Her thick and curvy body was nicely complimented  by the yellow dress she was wearing which flared out at her hips and stopped a few inches above the knee. She looked up at Charles and took a sip of something clear from her glass.

"Vodka? He made a small gesture with his hand toward her glass.

"Actually it's moonshine." She took another sip.

"Really now? Charles perked up.

She giggled. "No, I'm kidding. It's just water. I prefer to experience art with a clear head."

Charles smiled. She was beautiful and looked no older than thirty. He had been divorced now for six years and at his current age of fifty with two small children, dating was near impossible especially with his job. He had dated a girl a year after his divorce but it had ended badly and he had avoided dating ever since. Charles had trust issues. His ex wife Adrina had cheated on him resulting in an unexpected pregnancy from her lack of using protection. Blake was his son but Mina was not his daughter biologically and while that tore him apart he loved her as if she was his own. Adrina had no idea who the father was because she had a few drunken flings and couldn't remember. Yes, Charles had issues with women, so much so that using his hand was getting tiresome because he found little to no joy in passionless sex. Maybe it was because he had been burying himself in work lately or that he lacked a social life that this girl peaked his interest.

"I was listening to what you said about the painting. I'm interested in what else you have to say."

He nodded and took a step towards her before turning towards the painting. " Well as I was saying earlier, I believe that this artist is showing us what it is like to lose to darkness. Her naked body represents vulnerability, how we feel when our senses are stripped from us. The wildness of her hair and the imperfections  of her body symbolize freedom from traditional ideals . To me, the artist seems to find beauty in darkness and the chains around her wrist aren't meant to hold her down instead it's her restraining herself from completely being taken and devoured by the abyss. The little light that there is in her eyes is the last bit of normal, good, even wholesome left in her but if you look at her mouth you can see that she is hungry. That hunger is her desire for all the delicious pleasures that darkness brings."

She took a deep breath and it came out shakily. "It is easier to find your freedom in darkness. No one is there to see you so they can't judge you. You can truly be  yourself."

For a moment it was as if time had stopped and they were the only two people there. Then something interesting happened. She looked down at the floor. Most people look away or keep staring but instead she looked down. This was something submissive women and men did in respect to their Doms and Dommes. Charles was an experienced Dom  and while that action brought back a few flashbacks of those days, he shook it off and broke the silence between them with a small chuckle. She picked her eyes up from the floor and looked back at him.

"That was a brilliant interpretation."

"Thank you, Ms...?" 

"Just Wynter. Wynter Anderson." She introduced herself.

Charles too a step back and looked at the information box again. "This is your painting. He ran his finger through his short gray and white hair.

"Indeed it is and I have to say you are truly gifted. I could not have explained it any better."

"Well I did major in psychology." He grinned at her as a waiter came by and took their empty glasses. "All that aside, your painting is beautifully done." 

He was just about to comment  on the similarities between her and the girl in the painting when his sister walked over and bumped him with her hip.

"I thought I lost you." She pinched the back of his arm and he pinched her back in response.

"Amber, this is one of the artist showing here, Wynter Anderson. This is her painting."

Amber took a look at the painting and then at Wynter. Your work is lovely and I really like your name. What's the story behind it?"

"My full name is Wynter Storm Anderson. My mother was an earth child." She looked at Charles. "I didn't catch your name."

The look Wynter gave Charles was making him hard. He thought about pushing her up against the wall, lifting up her dress and taking her right then and there in front of everyone. "I'm Charles."

"Pleasure to meet you Charlie." The way she said his name made him feel like electricity was shooting through him.

"Well I really should be going. It was really nice to talking to you Charlie. Nice to meet you Amber." Wynter shook their hands and walked out of the gallery.

"Dirty old man." Amber whispered to her brother.

"I'm getting older little sister, I'm not dead."




Wynter pulled into her driveway and shook her head. This was her first time showing at an art gallery and it would probably be her last. As expected some people liked it even if they didn't get it and some were just vicious. She had barely got her keys from her purse when she heard her two dogs practically throwing themselves at the door.

"Okay! Okay! Mommy hears you."

Bonnie and Clyde were her two mutts that she adopted from the shelter four years ago. Bonnie was a clingy and chubby Golden Retriever/Shar-Pie mix who loved to steal. She had a nasty habit of stealing food from a a person's hand or plate and then running off. She had stolen Clyde's toys when he was preoccupied with licking himself which led to long chases and tug-a-wars. Clyde was a Border Collie/Lab mix who lived for fetching. Even though they were adopted from two different shelters it was as if they knew each other all their lives. They were her children and they were spoiled. 

She walked into her cozy home and before she could lock the door behind her, her dogs ambushed her and covered her in sloppy wet kisses. After they had settled down she tossed her keys and her purse on the console by the door. She kicked off her heels and headed to her bedroom.

As her dogs followed she couldn't stop thinking about the man that commented on her painting. She wondered if he was flirting with her or if he was being genuine about his feelings towards her work.  Maybe a little of both. She used to be able to read men but her divorce made her second guess everything.

Wynter had been married for six years to Michael Anthony. They had met at a sports bar while watching football.  After busting each other's chops during the game they talked for hours about their love for the game. One year later they were married. Wynter was happy. They had their problems like any other other couple but Wynter believed that if you love someone you work on your relationship. 

It wasn't until she came home early from a night out with her friends to find her husband in bed with two other people that made her call it quits. 

There he was on his knees in their bed getting plowed in the ass by a man with a beard so big and untamed that he could pass for a Viking and sucking the cock of a passable busty transsexual. What happened afterwards was still a bit fuzzy. She remembered screaming and something about Michael not even using a condom and then it all went red. That night ended with her handcuffed and in the back of a police car with blood stains on her skin and clothes. According to the police she had beat Michel severely with a wooden bat and the neighbors had called the police because of how loud he was screaming. He had spent several weeks in the hospital healing from broken bones and fractures. As badly as she had beat him, he didn't press charges. His reason? He deserved it. 

  He confessed to sleeping around with men, women and transsexuals a few months after they said their wedding vows. he had commitment problems and Wynter felt robbed of her youth and that her entire life was a lie. 

She  had been in counseling for years. She knew she didn't beat him because of his sexuality. She beat him because he was reckless with her body. The thought of him going out and having unprotected sex with other people and then coming home to her made her want to rip her skin off. She got tested a few times a year and they all came back negative. If they had come back positive she would have been on death row for killing him. Even with therapy, her confidence and self-esteem were at an all time low. There were moments when she felt pretty and sure of herself but they were always followed closely by doubt. Art helped. She painted and made sculptures as a hobby. It was slowly helping her rebuild her confidence.

She had tried dating but she could not get through the first date before anxiety and doubt caused her to feel so ill that she would vomit. She once puked on her date when he tried to kiss her. Wynter even tried going to a bar to meet someone. The first time she did, she got herself really drunk and ended up face down, ass up in the backseat of a car with a guy's whose name she didn't even know. She drove home that night feeling so disgusting that she took three showers. The was her first one night stand and her last.

Wynter stripped out of her dress and tossed it on the bedroom floor. She slid on her favorite sweatshirt and a pair of fleece pants and hopped into bed. Her dogs jumped up and plopped down beside her. She wanted to feel something, something real. She wanted someone she connected with. She wanted love, all consuming love. She was twenty-eight years old and beginning to feel as if there was no such thing.

She snuggled under her blanket and let her mind wonder about Charlie. Little harmless thoughts popped into her head. What were his thoughts on love? How did he feel about relationships? She didn't remember seeing a wedding band but that girl he was with could have been his girlfriend. He was quite handsome with his grayish hair and beard. He was definitely older. He was a heavy bear of man with strong thick arms. She knew a few girls that loved older men for what they could provide but Wynter always loved older, hairy men that were a bit on the round side. He had beautiful green eyes and a seductive smile. She drifted off to sleep replaying their conversation in her head. He was a catch but even if he was somehow single and asked her out, she would probably say no for fear of throwing up on him. 


© Copyright 2020 HelixDarling. All rights reserved.


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