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Snark
05-26-2007, 09:55 AM
My first story submission to this site (I don't submit to much very easily!) Reviews welcomed, of course.

Snark

Hole

Chapter one.

Hole opened the car door and slipped gingerly into the driver’s seat. The pain from her much abused pussy and asshole immediately returned her mind to the afternoon and night’s activities. She started the car and put it in reverse, carefully depressing the accelerator, then drove slowly out of the parking lot. She squirmed a bit, trying to find a bit of relief. The pain brought her mind back to the festivities of the day.

It began with her owner’s instructions delivered shortly after she had cleaned up the lunch dishes.

“Hole… you’ve got an appointment to be a movie star again.” He waited for her to react. Hole looked up blankly, without displaying any emotion. She waited as well. He gave her a slight smile and continued. “I rented you to a friend for the afternoon. He’s got a flick he’s producing and directing and needs a star. You’re star material.” He glanced up and down her body and smiled a bit more.
She looked down at herself, following his lead. She saw a trim body, with long legs and flat tummy. Her boobs weren’t huge, but did fill her tee shirt nicely. They were well formed and high, with nipples that tended to stand erect. “Constant high beams” her owner often said. She couldn’t see her ass, but it, too, was quite well proportioned and very firm from many hours of diligent exercise. Her eyes were wide and slightly almond shaped, not quite oriental, flanked by high cheekbones and supported by a small, delicate nose. Her blue eyes seemed bright, but belied many years of self-doubt and worthless feelings. Very fine, light copper colored hair framed her face, falling down to her neck, just above her shoulders. She was quite attractive, but not more so than many young women that converge in shopping malls in Atlanta, Charlotte or Tampa on any given weekend. To her, though, she was just plain homely. He handed her a sheet of notepaper.
“This is the address, you’ve got about 45 minutes to get ready and get there. Enjoy yourself.”
“Will I like doing this movie?” Hole asked.
“What does ‘liking’ have to do with it?” He responded. “I said to enjoy it. If you enjoy it and show how much you enjoy doing everything you’re instructed, then I’ll like it. If you enjoy it sufficiently I’ll be cruel to you the way you like it. Otherwise I’ll be very cruel to you the way you don’t. So enjoy it.” That caused a slight shiver to run through her. Her owner knew very well how to be cruel the way she didn’t like.
She returned a flat smile. “I’ll enjoy it then. May I ask how long I’ll be gone? My time belongs to you but I haven’t prepared any dinner and don’t want you to go hungry.”
“I’ll take care of myself. In fact I have a dinner date. So don’t worry about it. Your other duties are waived for the evening as well. Just enjoy.”
That last remark concerned her, but she didn’t let it show. She just smiled back. “Thank you for releasing me for the evening.” She turned around and headed toward the bathroom. Being released from her duties meant that she would be back when it was over, with no set time. The thought of how cruel he might be entered her mind. Like an inverted suspension with her pussy pulled open with a handful of fish hooks run through her labia, the attached line wrapped around her thigh. Then fifty or so strokes across the stretched flesh with a very roughened car radio antenna. And his imagination was even more twisted than hers.
She shivered again and turned her attention to the address on the note. She wasn’t familiar with it, so she knew she would have to check either the Internet or a paper map. That would steal precious minutes that she needed to get ready. Hole stripped the tee shirt off over her shoulders, unbuttoned her shorts and dropped them in the hamper. She turned on the shower and got in before the water got warm. There wasn’t time to wait and her owner hated for her to waste water. She ignored the chill and started washing. Shampoo first, then work down. By the time the water was warm, she was almost finished. A quick warm rinse for her hair and her body and she grabbed a towel and stepped out.
Her owner hadn’t specified her clothing so she went with the day’s default uniform. Another clean tee shirt and shorts, no underwear, as usual. She slipped on a pair of sandals with 4” heels and glanced in the mirror. She quickly applied a light film of moisturizer, lipstick and a brush of eye shadow. She wasn’t allowed much makeup as a rule, unless he was taking her out to a party or some other event. In this case she expected that the “producer” would provide any other makeup.
He had rented her out several times before. Every other time it was to an individual who made an amateur bdsm flick. Her high pain tolerance and ready excitability under submission made her an excellent subject. She was usually whipped, suspended, caned and finally fucked in every movie, usually in every orifice, often more than once. Whipping she liked, as well as flogging, constricted bondage and cropping. Canning took a little warming up, but if she were sufficiently prepared she could endure a canning that would leave her aching and perhaps limping, for over two weeks. Needles and fish hooks, nipple and pussy clamps, speculum play as well as other large, stretching butt plugs and dildos, deprivation helmets and forced piss drinking were all on the list of her owner’s dungeon activities. What would this afternoon bring?
A loud truck broke her reverie. She glanced around at the light traffic and noticed the clock. It was 11:30 pm. She had been a “star” for almost nine hours. She noticed the two one liter plastic bottles on the floor and sighed as she considered them – her souvenirs. This returned her to the replay in her mind.
Hole got to the location – a large empty factory in a mainly vacated industrial park. There were no other vehicles in the lot and at first she thought she was in the wrong place. As she drove along the back she saw he brown door with a light over it and a sign next to it that read “Engineering office”. This was the place. She got out, locked her door and took her only personal effects – car keys and her driver’s license. She walked to the door and as she got to it heard a buzzing sound. She pulled it open and stepped inside. The door closer shut it behind her and she looked back to notice a large magnetic door lock that insured that no one would get in (or out) easily. Hole walked a long hallway past closed doors, and then it turned to the right and ended at a large room. The room looked like it could have been a break room at one time, but now it was empty, dirt collected in the corners and an occasional spider web on the ceiling. As she looked around a man walked in.
“Hello!” He greeted her.
“Hi” was her only response.
“I’m Trace. I’m running this circus. You must be the girl that Phil told me about.” He looked her up and down, liking the view. He was taller than her 5’7”, probably 6’1’. His graying brown hair was short and thinning in the front; longer in the back, collecting on his neck. He was lanky with arms that looked too long for his frame. Grey eyes looked out under shaggy brows, across a nose that had seen more than too much abuse.
At first she seemed puzzled and then remembered who “Phil” was. She hadn’t heard or thought of her owner’s name in several years. He was simply “Sir” to her.
“I’m Hole” she replied.
“Hole? That’s your name?” He asked. “Kind of unusual. But hey, that’s fine with me.” He turned, motioning for her to follow. “Shooting’s out here. Let’s go through the release and disclaimer so we can get started.”
Hole followed him out into a large area with a high ceiling – probably 3 stories. Windows ran across the walls at the roofline. This likely used to be a manufacturing area, she thought. She wondered what had been made here.
A “shooting stage”, a smaller room constructed of 10’ tall frames with drapes hanging to the floor, stood out on the manufacturing floor. At one corner the drapes didn’t quite meet allowing passage into the stage. Trace led her into the stage and over to a video camera mounted on a tripod.
“Got your ID?” He asked? He was getting the camera ready and turned on a pair of lights. She handed him her drivers’ license and got a look at the stage area. He handed her a sheet of paper and a pen.
“Sign this, fill in your name and other stuff on the top lines and then step over there on that tape line and read the last paragraph.” She had to stop to think about her name, but he handed her the license back in time for her to read it. She filled in the identification lines from her license, struggling to sign her real name. She had been “Hole” for so long that her old name was lost to her.
“Hold the license under your chin and look at the camera as you read the release.”
She did as instructed while the red light on the camera glowed. When she finished reading the release, the red light went out and Trace turned out the other lights as well.
“OK. There’s a makeup table and light bar over there” he waved at the other end of the stage. “Lots of lipstick, mascara and eye shadow. Darken your eyebrows and put some rouge on your cheeks and nipples. Powder your shoulders and tits a little. It won’t last long but it’s the first impression that counts anyway. Oh, and Phil said to give you this.” He handed her an envelope and turned back to moving the camera.
She took the envelope and walked toward the makeup table. Along the way she noticed 7 or 8 men standing in a group. Several were wearing masks of different sorts; some had the masks pushed up on the top of their heads. They were all bare chested, wearing shorts and shoes - some sandals, some sneakers; a few had well worn deck shoes. Hole continued to the table and sat down in front of the mirror. A switch on the side turned on the light bar on the top and sides of the mirror. She opened the envelope and extracted a single sheet of paper. There was no greeting, just the message.
“ Do everything you’re told. Every cock should get a thorough blowjob every time one is presented to you. NOT a gentle “Wifey” style bj. A full - throated, face slamming skull fuck that would amaze Annette Schwartz. Oh, I may have forgotten to mention that there might be some ass fucking. If you didn’t get a chance to give yourself an enema, I don’t want to be embarrassed by you having a dirty ass. As soon as any cock that might find it’s way into your ass is withdrawn, give it a thorough cleaning. Complete licking and a full throat sucking to make sure it’s clean. And swallow every drop that gets into your mouth. Make sure Trace understands what you are to do. NO EXCEPTIONS! And remember to enjoy yourself.”
It wasn’t signed, but it didn’t need to be. She knew his handwriting and wasn’t necessarily shocked at receiving the note. The contents, however, caused her to pause. “Forgotten to mention?” Hardly. That was why he had gotten up much earlier than usual, which changed her daily schedule. She hadn’t had time to tend to her normal daily toilet rituals, rushing around to serve her owner. The instructions to leave had further distracted her and an enema was hardly on the top of her to-do list. Furthermore her bowels were even more full than normal, thanks to an especially large dinner the night before. And anal sex (NO! She reminded herself. People have anal sex. Property gets ass fucked) always stimulated her bowels anyway.
Maybe there was a restroom she could sneak off to. She quickly applied the makeup. The colors weren’t correct for her pale skin and copper hair, but it was what she had. Lots of eye shadow to run down her cheeks. Bright lipstick to smear. Bright color for her nipples, maybe too bright. Tough, she thought. She ran a brush through her hair, though it would be mussed soon enough.
As she stood to look for a rest room Trace walked up to her.
“You look great! Wonderful! The guy’s will be even more turned on than before. Come on over to finish your prep.”
“Uh,” she started. ”Is there someplace to..” Hole started. But Trace was walking off toward a box on a low-wheeled cart.
“I could use a rest room,” She called to his back.
Trace looked back at her as he walked on “Don’t worry, there will be ample opportunity in a few minutes.” She followed him over to the box. He opened the lid and turned to her.
“I understand that you get off on tight bondage. Phil said the stricter, the better. Said that it really gets the juices flowing, so to speak. He gave me a few ideas to start with.” That figures, she thought. This is getting to be tough to “enjoy”.
“What is the theme of the movie?” she inquired.
“The working title is Asstravaganza. That’s been used before so the final title will be different, but it’s focused on anal sex, in this case forced anal. Also oral. And he said you’ve never had it too rough, that you’re always asking for more. These guys are guaranteed not to disappoint you. Plus most of them can cum several times an hour. I don’t know what they take. Probably Viagra by the handful. Oh, he also said you’d rather drink piss than water, so there is some of that written into the scene notes.” He held up a handful of pages stapled together. ASSTRAVAGANZA was printed across the front.
She knew now what was to happen. The cocks were definitely going to “find their way into her ass.” Probably like a train wreck. She had no limits, she was property. She did what she was told by her owner. But they had never explored this area. She had assumed (wrongly, apparently) that he wasn’t interested in going to this extreme. Then she corrected the thought. “He’s not going to this extreme, I am. He has me do it with someone else so he can watch it without getting soiled himself. What you bet he does atm with me next time he decides to fuck me,” she thought, “Better get it over with.”
“Trace,” she begins. ”Uh, I didn’t know all the details..uh I guess I wasn’t paying close attention. I haven’t had an enema; so whenever one of the guys pulls out of my ass, make sure that he puts it to my mouth so I can clean it. OK?” This was delivered as lightly and as nonchalantly as she could, though her stomach was flipping over.
Trace looked surprised. “You’re sure? I could find some towels or something so they could clean up before..”
“No.” She smiled, but not too brightly. “Just make sure they move from my ass directly to my mouth. They can fuck my mouth too, after I’ve cleaned them.”
“That’s pretty heavy..” he replied.
“Well, ass to mouth is supposed to add some intensity by doing something a bit nasty,” She said.
Now Trace was incredulous. “Phil said you could be surprising. I guess this is what he meant. All right, then we change the scene progression. Hey, that’s gonzo film making. Always be ready to change to fit the opportunity. I’m sure that my loyal fans will appreciate the added intensity.”
Hole though to herself, “His fans would watch me get gun nailed down to a bench while a herd of Angus bulls fucked my ass and skull fucked my face for six hours without missing a stroke. Probably wouldn’t even spill the popcorn. Much less drop the Albolene.”
Trace was now stirring around in the box. Hole slipped over and took a look inside. She wasn’t surprised at what she saw. About half of the contents, she had experienced before. Not just that they were similar to the “toys” her owner used, they WERE the toys her owner used. Apparently Trace had obtained a selection from her owners’ dungeon. She wondered when that could have happened, then remembered that she spent many hours in her “trench box”, her private torture cell. There could have been plenty of opportunities while she was languishing in torment.
Trace pulled out a collection of straps she recognized as her body harness. He held it up trying to decipher how it fitted.
After a half minute she said “Give it here. I’ll put it on.” She stepped into the round enclosed bands and pulled them up her thighs. Next came the waist belt, connected by two straps to each of the thigh rings. It buckled on the side with a locking ring. At the top were shoulder straps and collar. Attached in between was the open bra. She squeezed her boobs through the opening of the bra rings and shook her shoulders to adjust it. She stretched around, pulling and tugging to get all the straps aligned correctly. Then she reached up and buckled the collar and turned her back to Trace.
“How about buckling the back,” she asked. Trace pulled the buckle halves together and noticed that there wasn’t any adjustment. The harness fit perfectly, though tightly. It obviously had been tailored just for her.
“Locks?” she inquired.
Trace looked blank for a second, then said “Oh, yeah.” He picked up three locks from a tray in the box and slipped them into the locking rings and snapped each hasp. Then he picked up two small bags with metal rings around the ends. She held up one hand and started working it through the ring and into the bag. Trace held the other one so she could get that one on as well. Once on, her hands were folded into loose fists. When a strap or cuff was secured around her wrist between the ring and her fist she wouldn’t be able to open her fist to withdraw her hand. He put a metal cuff around each wrist, locking them as well. Each cuff had a short chain attached with a flat ring on the end. Trace picked up an arm pouch. She crossed her arms behind her back and he slipped the pouch over her arms. He fished the ring from each cuff through an opening above each elbow. The ring was pulled around under the arm through a matching flat bracket on the underside of the pouch. Yet another lock secured the rings. An attached belt in the middle of the pouch was pushed through a slot, around her arms and buckled tightly together.
The top of the pouch was fitted with a strap that connected to the collar. Another belt went around her chest, just under her tits and was buckled, then locked. That rendered her arms folded and compressed against her back.
Trace then picked up a small bag and extracted a harness and two small rubber blocks. Hole automatically opened her mouth. Each block fitted between her molars. The blocks were slightly soft and pliable on the outside but solid inside. The pliable rubber conformed around her teeth, keeping her from working them out with her tongue. The hard centers prevented her from closing her mouth. The harness had a split chinstrap with ends that went up alongside her cheeks. They met at the top where a top strap ran from a strap around her forehead down the back of her head to another collar. Trace put the chinstrap under her chin then stretched the head straps up over her head and locked the collar around her neck. The harness pressed tightly against her face and scalp, insuring that the blocks weren’t coming out; and neither was her mouth going to close.
Ankle cuffs were locked around each ankle then Trace picked up the box and put it on the floor. He gestured to the cart and she kneeled upon it. He pulled each ankle up to its’ thigh and locked the ankle to the band. She sat back on her feet while he fitted a spreader bar between her knees to finish her bondage. Then he reached down into the box and withdrew a pair of weighted, toothed, flat spring clips. He held them up to her and looked quizzically at her. She sighed and nodded her head. He flicked her right nipple with his finger several times and rolled it with his finger and thumb. She was already getting hot, her usually hard nipples perked up even more. He put the clamp on it and repeated the process on the left side. She closed her eyes and took as deep a breath as the harness allowed and slowly released it.
The pain was pretty intense, but she had experienced these clamps many times. Her adrenalin and endorphins were already ramping up, so the pain in her nipples blended into her restriction. Her mind started moving to a more private space. Hole felt her heart beat in her ears and throat. She felt her pussy getting wet; she knew it would be dripping in a minute. Both her natural proclivities and her conditioning started pushing her along a familiar path. She breathed as deeply as she could through both her nose and mouth. The added oxygen helped to calm her pulse.
“Ok, it’s time to shoot.” Trace started pushing the cart towards the center of the stage area. By this time the men had all put on their masks and removed their shorts but not their shoes. The group watched as Trace brought the lovely package to the scene. A couple of the guys started fondling their growing erections. Hole counted nine. All were well muscled; obviously they each spent plenty of time in the gym. All of them also sported impressive cocks. Some were starting to stand at attention, the rest were showing signs of interest.
“Line up and just hold it while I get the hardware situated.” Trace told them. Suddenly lights positioned at the top of the drape frames and mounted on stands around the edges came on. They weren’t terribly bright and everyone’s eyes quickly adjusted. Trace went over behind the camera, the red light came on and he called out “Action!”
One of the hunks walked over and pushed the cart carrying Hole in front of the first cock in line. Sitting back on her feet helped; he was tall enough that she didn’t have to duck her head much to reach the level of his cock. He stepped up to the cart then grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her to the edge. Holding her head with one hand he grabbed his dick and pushed it into her mouth. What she did next surprised him. His cock was close to 10 inches long, but of a diameter that could easily pass through her open lips. As he started to ease it into her hot, moist cavity she thrust her face upon the shaft, then backed her head slightly away and did it again. By the fourth thrust she had impaled her throat upon the cock and began to face fuck herself vigorously.
“SHIT” he exclaimed. He could hardly believe what he was feeling; much less what he was watching as her copper colored hair flew around his crotch. He held his hand on the back of her head, but she didn’t need either help or encouragement. As she pushed her face forward she sucked hard on his cock, as she withdraw she pressed her tongue on the bottom of the shaft, being careful not to push it onto her upper teeth. She kept it up at a remarkable rate for a minute, then two. Before he could fully process what she was doing he took a deep breath, pulled her face forward until her nose was pressed tightly against his pubic bone and blew his load down her throat. He shook all over as his close cropped pubic hair tickled her nose.
“Hey, hey, hey,” one male called out, another added “ WHOO HOO!” and several applauded.
The first one released her head and stepped back, stumbling slightly.
“WOW! Damn, this cunt is serious!” His face was red; sweat had popped out on his forehead. The next “customer” stepped up quickly, his cock now harder than it was before. He placed it in her mouth and she started over. She felt the cock pounding against the back of her throat, this one a bit thicker, about as long as the first.
She used the same technique, sucking hard and wiping her tongue along the bottom. She breathed between every four strokes, taking a quick gasp before ramming her face back into his abdomen. Hole began to feel like her name. A hole for a cock to fill. A semen receptacle. Her frequent self-loathing began to morph into a feeling of something like satisfaction, or maybe completion. Like this was what she really deserved, this is what she was destined to do. With the feeling of personal completeness came the realization that she was using her mouth to violently fuck a cock while bound beyond any movement other than her head. The humiliation of reducing herself to nothing more than a human masturbatory appliance pushed her further into her valueless mindset. Her hunger for further degradation began to grow. Her actions became almost automatic, getting into a rhythm not unlike a bobble headed doll being shook vigorously. The second one came quickly as well. Neither man had had such an experience. As the second one stepped back, the third stepped up. His cock was about the same size as the first one. He knew what to expect, so he just stuck his cock in, flexed his knees a bit and leaned back to watch. The bobble head surrounded his cock and he felt engulfed by her heat.
“Mmm hmmm. MMM HHMM” he repeated. The results were the same as the first two. Three minutes later, he exclaimed “Whew!” falling back from her sucking throat. Even as he had trembled and spasmed into her mouth, she had kept going until he pulled himself away.
“Cut” Trace shouted. “Hold up. I’ve got to get this thing mobile.” He quickly released the camera from the tripod mount and strapped a mobile harness around his waist and chest. He attached the camera to the frame, checked his battery and sound level and shouted “And… Action!” And so it continued.

TG
06-19-2007, 01:52 AM
Hi Snark,
I'm new here too, and the lack of response can drive you crazy, so I thought us new guys should stick together.
First, I'm an amateur, so you have to take what I say in that light. I thought your piece was better than my first attempt. The opening pulled me into the story within a couple of paragraphs.
I know with mine, I wanted my characters plausible, and plot logical, so I added things to the story to explain the character or plot, and the result was draining on the drama. A couple of times with yours I felt less detail would have the kept the pace of the story faster. There were several paragraphs on putting on a body harness, and I would have been happy with, "She put on the body harness," and then gotten on to the good stuff. Several paragraphs I skimmed, impatient to get to more action.
I know with me I have a different perspective when I'm writing at home, and when I view a story on the Web. At home I get into the detail and love it. I pat myself on the shoulder and say, "Oh yeah, I covered that well." I just lap up drama in the detail. When I'm on the Web, I want stories that have a lot of drama. So I've found myself in a battle between the drama I love at home in the detail, and the need to produce a fast pace that keeps readers attention on the Web. My second piece had less talk and more action, and I thought that was better. It got better reviews (3 - Wup Dee Doo!, and 4 reader emails, and 1 forum member email on the story. Over 10,000 downloads and 8 responses. Jesus.) I figure it was because I kept the pace faster (just a guess because of low response rate). (In fairness though, I've got say I have a long piece up -9 chapters- and that a lot to ask anyone to read.)
So I'm always in battle between detail to be logical which I love at home, and the need to keep the pace moving. I've got a 3rd story in the works, using 2 chapters to set the story up, and I hate those 2 first chapters. I can't seem to get them to suck people into the drama. I read your's starting paragraphs and thought, "He's doing a better job than I am at it." The formula I'm going to try to use is keep plot and character detail low, but allow detail into the action sequences.
I liked your action sequence with the movie shoot, and I found your ending a good way to wrap the story up.
So there you go! As one person who doesn't know what he's doing to another person just starting out.
Overall, I liked it. Beginning and end especially, middle not so much.
Good luck and I'd like to see another.
TG (Thomas_g50)

Snark
07-01-2007, 05:13 AM
TG:

The clash between detail and just fast action is always a challenge, especially for short stories. While the action is the focus, without sufficient detail it becomes harder for the reader to suspend his/her disbelief. Personally, I enjoy good detail as long as it is truely relevent to the story. It enriches the stage of the theater of the mind. Check the next 2 chapters on the stories pages, then let me know what you think.

Thanks for your input!

Alex Bragi
07-01-2007, 09:56 PM
Oh Fuck!!! Please excuse the expletive, but I really liked this one! I love the names too—Phil and Hole. That’s so cute! Gotta love those! :cool:

Just like “Asstravaganza” in this story had been used many times before, many authors have used the porn starlets theme, but it’s just such a fabulous fantasy, especially when it’s done as well as this one.

The descriptions are very good and woven into the story with skill and ease. The dialog reads realistically and introduces each character’s personality well.

I agree completely it’s often a fine balance to feed the reader sufficient description without bogging them down in mundane details.

There were several paragraphs on putting on a body harness, and I would have been happy with, "She put on the body harness," and then gotten on to the good stuff. Several paragraphs I skimmed, impatient to get to more action.

It’s interesting, for me, to read TG’s comments. See, he’s a man and I’m a woman. I’ve noticed that male readers (and authors) will often want to get down with the hot and dirty stuff much sooner, while women tend to want more details about such things as you’ve included in your story, but that TG found himself wanting to skim over. I’m not saying one is right or wrong, it’s just that we—men and woman—are different. Certainly, for people who have fetish for leather harnesses, yours was certainly not too much description.

My only criticisms:

I would love to have gone inside Hole’s head to know exactly what she was feeling. I felt no fear, no joy, no nothing from her. I noted at the start, “Hole looked up blankly, without displaying any emotion” and at little later “She returned a flat smile”. Was this lack of emotion from your main character intentional? If it was, I think it should have been emphasised more.

Remember you’re writing for the www, not many people outside of the USA will be familiar with Imperial measurements (5’7 and 6’1, and 4’). Ok, I know she’s about my height because I looked it up later, and found the metric equivalent, but I shouldn’t have had to. It’s probably for that reason that people who know a whole lot more about writing than I do say: Avoid use exact measurements in your story telling.

Being super-duper nit picky: “... its’ thighs...” I could be wrong here, but I don’t think you need an apostrophe here, even if it is a plural possession.

“...The pain was pretty intense...” kind of jarred me. “pretty intense” read rather weakly to me. It can be less intense, more intense, or even very intense, but please not pretty.

My pet hate: “Hole though to herself,...” Who else would she be thinking it to?

And, finally, that damned formatting. Please check it (preview post) next time.

I wish you well with your future writing.

:)

Snark
07-06-2007, 12:40 PM
Thank you for your comments. Yes, we are a people separated by a common language! Being a Yank I think in Imperial, metric is not foreign to me, just not as inborn. As Thomas complained, too much details can get a guy's stroke off, there is much more emotional development as well as character explanation woven into future chapters. I haven't written fiction in many years, then it was screenplays. Necessarily, that style requires a LOT of detail! I write as I "see" the action as well as experience it in my mind. As far as "thinking to ones'self"....My spouse certainly thinks out loud, which is quite disconcerting at times. Formating apparently shifts from the htm that I write in and the posted configuration. Still working on that one. I do appreciate the comments; it's difficult to find a good editor for this type of work. I hope you enjoy the subsequent chapters.

Alex Bragi
07-07-2007, 05:23 AM
... As far as "thinking to ones'self"....My spouse certainly thinks out loud, which is quite disconcerting at times.

I'm sure it is, especially if she doesn't realise she doing it. :)

Well, that being the case, I believe it should read something like: Hole said to herself, thinking out allowed. Otherwise, it's a tautology, isn't it?

Yes, I look forward to future chapters. :)

heycarrieanne
08-30-2007, 08:00 PM
I liked your story, and especially your descriptions of what all was going on! There is nothing better than action and not passive voice. You do toss in a lot of commas that are not necessary. For example, in the beginning you use "guy's" and it should just be "guys."

I also disagree with using the metric system! When people use the metric system, I am just lost! Stick with what you know!

Alex Bragi
08-30-2007, 10:53 PM
I also disagree with using the metric system! When people use the metric system, I am just lost! Stick with what you know!

Well, what I actually meant was don't use imperial or metric, regardless of which one you "know". Don't tell the reader, for instance, he was six foot or 185 cm, say something like, he was fairly tall. Or, better still show the reader, ..he leaned down to whisper in her ear...