The Call of Clara

The Call of Clara The Call of Clara

Status: In Progress

Genre: Romance

Details

Status: In Progress

Genre: Romance

Summary

This is the first story I have written as an adult. I wrote it for my wife as a challenge to myself. Erotic fiction for me is usually rather awkward to read, and therein lies my challenge. Though I would like to be a published author in the future I know I've a long way to go, and any feedback is much appreciated.

Heather has stumbled upon an artifact that seems to have some power over her. Is it real or just her imagination.

Summary

This is the first story I have written as an adult. I wrote it for my wife as a challenge to myself. Erotic fiction for me is usually rather awkward to read, and therein lies my challenge. Though I would like to be a published author in the future I know I've a long way to go, and any feedback is much appreciated.

Heather has stumbled upon an artifact that seems to have some power over her. Is it real or just her imagination.

Chapter1 (v.1) - The Calling

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: June 23, 2017

Reads: 314

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Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: June 23, 2017

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What actually happened on that fateful night was quite the mystery for our beautiful couple, but a night like this may only come once in a lifetime, and when they look back on it they both agree that it was a key time in their relationship that would keep the fires burning string for the rest of their long lives.

On their travels through Scotland, Doug and Heather had been befriended by a young couple who subsequently invited them to a function at Macduff castle. Offering them a guestroom for the night.

A huge monument to medieval craftsmanship sat atop a mountain on the northern edge of the beautiful Glencoe ranges, Macduff castle boasted two hundred rooms, the largest collection of artwork outside the Louvre and was seemlessly restored to a modern standard that still preserved the medieval architecture and the enigma that a masterpiece of this scale provided..

“Tell me again, What are we doing here?” Heather asked as she rolled her eyes after yet another pompous twat had finished introducing himself.

“I suppose we impressed the right person” said Doug, he shrugged off the question and took another sip of the seemingly endless supply of champagne “wonder what this one costs?”

The party was held in the great hall of Macduff Castle, nearly a half an acre of open ballroom. Twelve massive chandeliers suspended from enormous oak rafters hung elegantly from the arch of the high ceiling, illuminating the guests mingling and dancing in their golden light.

“Well anyway, I need to pee.” Heather downed the last of her sour, tasteless bubbly and placed the empty on the tray of a passing waitress.

“Around here we call that powdering our nose.” Doug stretched his neck and imitated the voice of a much parodied English aristocrat. He was quite tipsy now and beginning to make fun of the other guests. Fed up with their company, he was ready to suggest they retire to their guestroom for the night.

He stared at her we she walked away, the light silk out her white and red cocktail dress brushed gently against her thighs as she sauntered elegantly towards the foyer. The way she walked so elegantly in those stiletto heels added an air of confidence and sophistication. (as well as much needed inches her height.)

Heather thanked the female bathroom attendant as she dried her hands on the warm towel provided, then exited without saying another word.

The walk back from the bathrooms took her through the castle gallery, Another cavernous open room adorned wall to wall with works of art. Huge renaissance framed portraits stared down upon her as she wandered through, giving each piece a moments glance before moving on to the next

Not being in a hurry to return to the party, Heather deviated down the long hallway and found herself alone in front of a large door made of solid oak. To the left, stood a sculpture of a naked love locked couple. Happy to have a brief respite from the stuffy crowd of the party, she took a moment to admire the intricacy and the fascinating detail that had gone into the beautiful taut marble bodies of the man and woman, captured exquisitely in the throes of passion. She was intrigued by their ecstatic facial expressions and the gorgeously defined carving of their bodies. Far from lewd, but still well out of place in the stuffy portrait gallery, Heather was truly captivated by the beauty and life of this magnificent sculpture.

A familiar warmth began to envelope Heather as her mind turned to her and Doug, however her thoughts interrupted by a sharp creak that split the silence as a draught from the hallway moved the oak door slightly on it’s ancient hinges. A gap had opened up and a soft warm glow from within tempted Heather to have a quick look inside.

if it can open this far by itself, it can open a wee bit farther. Feeling rather bold, she gently pushed the heavy door ajar. Inside appeared to be what was another gallery, much smaller than the hallway, but filled with hundreds of various sculpture and icons. All sexual in nature. Clearly the result of many years of collecting.

With Curiosity having now trumped her sense of intrusion she mustered up her courage and stepped inside. Every spare space along the walls was filled with displays of priceless artifacts and sculptures, a huge assemblage of eroticism from all over the world and organized obsessively according to their respective continents. She began to browse the collection, barely able to take in the vast array of intricately detailed depictions of human sexuality.

She stopped at a small display case in the European section which housed a stone cigar shaped object nearly eight inches long. Intricately carved into the shape of a primitive phallus.

“ That one's nearly eight thousand years old” The man’s voice had caused Heather to jump. She spun around abruptly towards it’s source.

“I, um the door was open” she said embarrassed, Where did he come from?. “I, um didn’t mean to intrude”

“ It’s ok” said the tall gentleman who was standing before her “I don’t usually invite people in here, but if you’re interested you may admire my collection.”

Colin Macduff stood in the middle of the galley, holding his hands casually behind his back dressed impeccably in a black tuxedo. He was a tall man, well over six feet and in his late fifties or early sixties. He sported a full head of silver hair parted on the left and his face was well tanned. As he stared at Heather with light blue, almost grey, eyes. She decided that he must have been quite handsome in his younger years.

“ I’ve never been interested in dirty magazines or internet depravity. I like to think my tastes are more refined than that, what do you think of my collection Mrs Jones?”His voice was deep and soft, and when he spoke he commanded attention.

“you know my name?” she said, still trying to compose herself from the shock of being caught snooping in the private gallery.

“I know the names of all my guests Mrs Jones, it makes me a better host, but as to my question, what do you think of my collection?”

She racked her brain for an appropriate compliment but was unable to come up anything.

“It’s huge” was all she could muster “ I’m sorry, I better get back to my husband”

“There’s no need to be Embarrassed Mrs Jones, if you wish to look around you're most welcome.” He gestured with his hands welcoming her perusal “you like the sculpture?” he nodded towards the open door and the statue of the marble lovers.

Heather turned back towards the statue “ it’s beautiful” she replied admiringly, “it must have taken years to create”

“We don’t know for sure The artist never signed his work. I have others though that are not as discrete although equally as beautiful, would you like to see them?” McDuff was now standing next to Heather

“ yes, yes I would” Heather was coy but intrigued, she looked up at McDuff, who was even taller than she first thought, his stance and mannerisms gave her the impression he was a career soldier.

At the rear of the gallery, Heather noticed another large timber door, obsessively hand carved with frescoes of both men and women in various stages of undress.

“I don't believe you're here by accident” McDuff turned the iron door handle and it swung inwards to yet another large room with high ceilings “they say that she calls to you”

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude Mr. McDuff, I... I think I've had a bit too much to drink”. Her awkwardness however, gave way to fascination when she set eyes upon the treasures within the large room. There were more statues depicting the same couple from the hallway each one equally as detailed and beautifully hand crafted, and erotic. “ wait, who calls to me?”

Macduff stepped in front of a tall statue of a beautiful woman “This is Clara. The legendary heroine of the greatest love story that ever was, they say she had the sexual voracity of a dozen young men, a curse put upon her by Aphrodite for being too beautiful. You know how these old tales go, all very dramatic of course.” He paused for a second “ however, she yearned only to be with only one man. A slave by the name of Rocco. The story goes that she didn't have enough gold to buy Rocco, so she seduced Jacob, his owner so she would take possession of him along with ten thousand gold coins.”

“She must have been good” chuckled Heather as she inspected the statue of Clara. A full seven feet tall and every line and intricate detail of the naked woman beautifully etched into the cream colored stone. Such a magnificent representation of classical beauty. A body like that would make a lot of women jealous, she thought but what made her so good anyway?

To the right of Clara, stood Rocco. Rocco was every bit as lovingly detailed as Clara. His powerful body stood taller, with mighty shoulders and perfectly toned torso. This is more my type, she thought cheekily, if Doug had a body like this, I might have the appetite of a dozen young men too. She smiled at the thought as she walked around to view the statue from behind. Now there’s a backside I get my nails into. “not in bad shape for a slave” she mused out loud. This sculptor’s creation was anatomically perfect, except for maybe a bit of artistic generosity with regards to his manhood. Or maybe not.

“I thought you’d like that one.” Macduff was smiling too now, his grey eyes lit up to match Heather's amusement. “I must go soon and attend to my guests. But first I have one more thing I'd like show you.”

Macduff guided her over to the center of the room where a black silk pillow sat atop a marble pedestal, seated on the pillow was a rough piece of what looked like black glass beautifully colored with veins of red crystal that seemed to glow in the dim light of the circular room. Just being in it’s presence conjured feelings of fire and passion in Heather as she fought the urge to reach out and hold it.

“What is it?”

“Well,” said Macduff solemnly, “like so many legends of old, this story does not end happily. It’s said that Jacob was so enchanted by his liaison with Clara, that he wanted to keep her as his wife. Offering her riches, and anything she could ever dream of. However, Clara had already obtained her heart's desire, Rocco was The only man who could satisfy her, the only man she truly loved. Her refusal enraged Jacob.”

“Jacob was so overcome with jealousy he had Rocco put to death, and sent his men to fetch Clara. Knowing they would come for her she fled to the mountain, an active volcano at the edge of the city, and threw herself to a fiery death.”

“However, her heart was immortal, having been touched by a goddess, it was turned to glass by the intense heat of the fiery pit. Her spirit dormant inside.”

“Well, that’s the short version anyway.” It’s said that if the heart identifies a kindred soul, it will call to that person and beg for the spirit of Clara to be invited in, allowing her a brief experience of true passion through a willing host for just one blissful night. And if that person wishes to oblige, she must hold the heart in her hands and tell her why you'll allow her possess you.”

“And you think she’s calling out to me?” Heather didn't know what to make of this suggestion, this old bugger's coming on to me.

“I hear she’s very persuasive. Good night Heather, I trust your stay here will be most enjoyable, feel free to look around for as long as you like.”

He turned and strutted briskly towards the door into the first gallery, leaving it open behind him.

“Well he’s gay” she muttered under her breath, as she turned back to the obsidian heart. It was a good story he told, but his love of ancient folklore was obviously an obsession of his that was becoming unhealthy. Who could honestly believe a load of crap about a piece of stone calling out to indulge the whim of the ghost of some mythical lover girl on heat.

It was beautiful though, stunningly beautiful for a piece of rock. She could imagine feeling it in her hands, warm and comforting to touch.

Resisting the urge to hold it she meekly stepped away to look at the other statues in the room.

The first depicted Clara kneeling before Rocco, performing oral sex, the fingers of his right hand entangled in Clara’s hair, his head tilted forward with pleasure. Heather tried not to stare at this one too long.

Next was the reciprocation, with Clara leaning back against a wall and her right leg over Rocco’s shoulder pulling him into her hard as he knelt before her, a fistful of Rocco’s hair in her right hand as she arches her back and stares up at the sky in ecstasy.

“Good boy” she said aloud as she moved on. Now they were getting even more risqué. In the next one, Rocco was laying down on a bed, Clara was riding him in a seated position, leaning back on her hands with her legs wide apart and her feet level with his head. We never studied this in high school art class.

But it was the final one Heather admired the most. Rocco was stood behind Clara, his arms around her waist and her right leg was lifted and wrapped backwards around his in a dancer like pose. Her head rested on his chest as they both stared up at the sky. the full moon shone through the high Windows and lit their beautiful faces with a silver glow.

Wow she thought to herself. With her heart was now pumping faster as she realized she was becoming rather aroused. I better get back to Doug.

She just needed to see Clara's heart once more before she left.

Walking nervously over to the marble pedestal where the heart was sitting on it’s cushion, Heather was unable to stop herself. She picked up it up delicately as if it were a new born baby and held it against her chest. It was surprisingly heavy and warm in her small hands. She tilted her head down, and with her mouth almost touching, she whispered to it gently. Then the lights went out.

All that lit the gallery now, was the white glow of the full moon which gleamed in through the high windows, and directly onto the faces of the love locked couple staring innocently into the night.

The only colour visible in the room was the deep crimson of the glassy stone which seemed to be glowing in the scattered silvery moonlight. She placed it back onto the display cushion and walked swiftly through the huge wooden door, heels clicking noisily on the mosaic tiles as she went. It was time for another drink.


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