Take a post or scene you’ve written and find a new way in by rewriting with another angle.
So, a couple of months ago, I came up with this piece of writing, about Margaret and her dear husband, Walter. However, there’s more to the story.
Margaret finished watching that evening’s episode of How To Get Away With Murder, and sat back in her armchair, her mind racing. After several minutes of sitting there completely motionless, she stood up, turned off the television and walked over to the sink to get herself a glass of water.
She took some small sips and then took it into the bedroom with her, placing it on the small crocheted doily on her bedside table. She pulled back the doona, layed her head onto her pillow, and pulled the doona back up over her body. She rolled towards her husband, Walter, as she could feel his body heat warming the sheets.
Walter was facing away from Margaret, patiently waiting for her to start snoring. As soon as he heard those first little gurgles he knew he was clear. Margaret could sleep through a bomb explosion, so he knew he could leave the bed without her knowing.
He slowly and carefully slid out from underneath the doona, unplugged his mobile, and crept out of the bedroom and into the hallway. Through the darkness, he tiptoed along the floorboards and down the stairs into the study, quietly closing the door behind him. Walter pressed a button on his phone, causing the screen to light up like daylight, the brightness momentarily blinding him, before he got a chance to decrease it as low as possible, whilst still being able to see his phone.
He opened his recent call list and scrolled down to an entry, ‘J. Peters & Assoc.’ and pressed dial. A female voice answered the phone, ‘Hey baby… I’ve been laying here waiting for you to call…’
Walter let out a small moan, ‘mmm, yeah I can just imagine you laying there on that giant bed, in some sexy little outfit, waiting for me, waiting for your ‘Big Daddy’!’
The voice giggled and let out a moan, ‘mmm baby, yeah, you know how much I love seeing my Big Daddy… does that mean you miss ‘Daddy’s Little Girl’ as well?’
‘Mmmmm yeah, you’re definitely Daddy’s Little Girl… Daddy’s little NAUGHTY girl… have you been a naughty girl?’
‘Yes Daddy, I’ve been a very, very, naughty girl… Big Daddy needs to come and punish me… punish me all night long…’ and let out a small moan.
‘Are you…?’
‘Uh huh… but it’s not the same as my big, big Daddy…’
‘Oh, that’s hot… are you near your computer?’
‘You want me to show you, Daddy? Show you how much of a bad girl I’ve been?’
Walter switched on the computer and logged on to his video-calling programme. Within moment, a scantily clad young woman appeared on the monitor. She was petite and had long wavy blonde hair. Walter had a weakness for blondes, especially younger and particularly ‘girly’ ones. Her name was Stacey. Stacey was a dental nurse. (of course!). However, she certainly didn’t look anything like a dental nurse from what was being viewed on Walter’s monitor. Stacey was sprawled out across her king-size bed, wriggling and writhing around in her lingerie, doing all kinds of things to her body with not only her hands, but various other toys she had neatly layed out along the foot of the bed.
Walter was immediately aroused, and reclined back in his leather chair, to ensure that he could get his lower body into view of his webcam.
‘Ooohhh, now there’s my Big Daddy… Big Daddy needs to come and teach me a lesson… I’ve been a very bad girl! Do you wanna teach me a lesson, Daddy?’
‘I wanna teach you all kinds of lessons. You need to be spanked for being such a naughty girl. Maybe I should come and visit, and give you your punishment in person. Would you like that?’
Stacey moaned in delight, ‘Oh that would be great, Daddy. When can you visit again?’
‘Depends on when my bitch wife goes shopping again… She’s usually gone for a few hours at a time, so I could come and punish you then. Maybe like last time, except tie you up instead?’
Walter leant back a little further, and Stacey squealed in delight, ‘BIG. DADDY! THERE YOU ARE!!’ But you’re still too far away, you need to be here instead’
This banter continued between them both for quite some time, unbeknownst to Walter that Margaret was standing just back from the study doorway, in the darkness, watching every single moment; listening to every single word that was being said between them; recording this interaction on her phone.
Walter’s breathing began to get heavier and faster, and Margaret walked across the foyer to the kitchen, flicking on the kitchen light, which spilled out into the foyer, and immediately distracting Walter from his… interaction. He quickly leant forward to turn off the monitor, sitting in the darkness, panting. Waiting. He heard footsteps go back up the stairs, and waited a minute or so before turning the monitor back on again.
‘I almost got busted by that she-devil! I should really go. I think she’s going shopping tomorrow, I’ll come over then.’ Walter disconnected the video call, and put his pyjama pants back on.
He had just stepped out of the study doorway, when he saw a figure on the stairs. Completely unexpected, he jumped in a fright.
‘Margaret?’
‘What are you doing up so late?’
‘Oh… I… err… I just had to have a video conference with the London Office.’
‘At this late hour?’
‘Yeah, well, because of the time difference. It’s no big deal. Come on, let’s go back to bed, dear.’
‘Okay, darling.’
Margaret turned around and led the way up the stairs, plotting her day tomorrow. Walter followed closely behind, but kept looking back towards the study, hoping that he turned the computer off properly.
They both climbed back into bed, and kissed each other goodnight, and there in the darkness and silence, Margaret made a decision that was going to affect the rest of her life. A decision that could no longer be denied.
—
As the sun began to peek through the large bay windows of their bedroom, both Margaret and Walter turned over to avoid the sun, pulling the doona over their faces, shielding them from the brightness. Margaret momentarily enjoyed the feeling of her husband cuddled up behind her, feeling the warmth of his body heat against her back. She then remembered the activities of last night, and she let out a small sigh that today was going to be the day that all came to an end.
The morning continued like every other morning. She put on her robe and went downstairs to prepare breakfast, and then after ensuring that her husband was fed and caffeinated, she went upstairs to have a shower, whilst he sat at the table reading the morning newspaper.
Margaret returned downstairs dressed in a pair of tight jeans, white shirt and some dark-grey red-bottomed Louboutin heels. Margaret looked and felt incredible. Walter didn’t even look up from reading the paper as she trotted past him, ensuring he got a whiff of her perfume. Realising that he didn’t even batt an eyelid, she casually slipped a large kitchen knife into her designer handbag, and then rummaged around in the drawers to find the roll of duct tape, also placing that in her handbag – Walter, still completely oblivious.
She clenched her teeth and trotted back past him, kissing him on the cheek, ‘Bye darling, I’ll be back in a few hours – going to meet up with some of the other ladies for a little brunch and a little shopping.’ Walter grunted, shoveling a cold piece of buttered toast into his mouth, his gaze still fixated on the newspaper. ‘Darling, I’m going to go and murder your little blonde tramp today… do we need anything from the shops?’ Walter didn’t respond.
‘Darling!’
Walter swallowed his toast and turned to look at Margaret, ‘Holy cow. Darling! You look incredible! I don’t even know what to say… Where’s my wife and what have you done with her? I don’t want her to know that I have a supermodel in my kitchen!‘ Margaret blushed and gently hit his arm with her hand, ‘Oh stop it, you’ll make me blush!’
‘Seriously, babe, you look amazing. I don’t even remember the last time I saw you in a pair of jeans. Turn around, show me that bum of yours…’. Margaret did a little turn on the spot, and Walter leapt up from his chair, grabbing Margaret in his arms… ‘Maybe I should take you upstairs right now instead of letting you walk out of that door – then nobody else will be able to see how hot my wife is!’
Margaret kissed him, and said goodbye, picking up the keys and closing the door behind her. She jumped into the car, and roared off down the white-pebble driveway and out of sight. Walter, was watching from behind the dining room curtains. As soon as the car was gone, he raced upstairs to have a shower, dressed and before he knew it, was on his way to Stacey’s house.
He parked the car a couple of houses down from Stacey’s house, and walked up to her front door, with a small gift bag. It was small and pale blue with Tiffany printed on the side. It was a small bracelet he wanted to get her. He’d never bought Margaret anything like this. Stacey greeted him at the door in nothing but a lacey g-string.
Margaret watched all of this from her driver’s seat, also a couple of doors down. She continued to sip her coffee until it was all gone. She looked at herself in the rear-view mirror, ‘Well, I guess it’s showtime.’
She re-applied her lipstick, and put on her giant sunglasses. Got out of the car, locking it behind her. She’d managed to change outfits, now in skin-tight black leather pants, and a leather bomber-style jacket. She looked dangerous; Margaret would have been scared if she saw another woman dressed like this. She casually opened the side gate and followed the path down the back of the house, pausing just before each window to see if it was a bedroom window. She had a hunch that whilst the front door would be locked, the back door would be open. She quietly turned the handle of the back door, and it gently opened.
‘Well whaddya know, both her backdoors seem to be open for business. Slut!’
Margaret tiptoed through the laundry and paused when she heard moaning. She followed the moaning to a door. She wasn’t prepared to see what was on the other side of that door, but it was sure as hell about to be stopped. She peeked through the keyhole, and saw they were both facing away from the door, so Margaret quietly opened the door, and stood in the doorway. Watching. She pulled out her phone, and began to record some of what she saw. As she placed her phone back into her handbag, she looked around the room for something large and solid.
Her eyes focused on a tall floor lamp, ‘Hmm, that’ll do’, she thought to herself. She picked up the floor lamp, judging the weight of it and without any hesitation, took a swing, striking her naked, sweaty husband on the back of the head, knocking him out cold. Walter collapsed on top of Stacey who began screaming. Margaret walked around to the front of the bed, discovering that Stacey was already bound and gagged.
‘Well, I guess all the hard work has been done for me. You really have been a naughty girl. Thinking that you could come between me and my HUSBAND!? WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE YOU DIRTY LITTLE CUNT! YOU PICKED THE WRONG BITCH TO FUCKING MESS WITH, AND NOW YOU’RE GOING TO DIE. IT’S THAT SIMPLE. YOU FUCK MY HUSBAND, YOU FUCK WITH ME, AND NOBODY FUCKS WITH ME AND GETS AWAY WITH IT!’
Margaret wiped the tears from Stacey’s eyes with the blade of the kitchen knife, and in one swift flick of the wrist, sliced her throat. A deep, thick crimson pouring from the wound, all over the edge of the bed, and almost dripping on Margaret’s shoes.
‘No bitch, You’ve destroyed my marriage, and my husband. You’re not fucking ruining my Louboutins!’ And stepped back to walk back around to her husband. She placed the knife in his hand, allowing it to then fall onto the floor. She placed the floor lamp back where it was, and closed the door behind her. Walking back through the laundry and out the back door, Margaret maintained her composure as she sauntered back to her car and drove off.
adorablyobnoxious 