Craft a story/chapter/scene with the following opening.
"I do not have PMS. I'm pissed because you're an asshole." Connie slapped the palm of her hand on the table and glared at Samuel.
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Craft a story/chapter/scene with the following opening.
"I do not have PMS. I'm pissed because you're an asshole." Connie slapped the palm of her hand on the table and glared at Samuel.
....."I do not have PMS. I'm pissed because you're an asshole." Connie slapped the palm of her hand on the table and glared at Samuel. Six feet tall, muscled but not overly buff, long black bangs that fell over his eyes and a lovely cock and sack that just begged to be tortured, Connie had been seeing Samuel for a little over 3 months, and this was the first time he’d slipped.
He’d been a perfect little subbie boy, accepting every tirade of insults, withstanding every lick of the strap, groaning with pleasure every time she stepped on him and dug in with the heel of her stiletto. They had talked for hours; she'd heard his fantasies, his limits and his story.
.....She’d laid out the rules of behavior, he was never to touch her without invitation, he would strip bare in the tiny room off the foyer before entering her home and he would submit to her, catering to her every whim within the boundaries.
“It’s apparent we have a serious respect problem, when your mouth opens and that sort of shit falls from it.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Samuel mumbled. “This worthless asshole was only concerned for your health, and forgot its place for a moment.”
“Exactly, and I’m going to make you seriously regret your forgetfulness.” She looked at him and felt a tendril of desire brush her neck; she resisted the urge to drag him into the bedroom and fuck him silly. “Get your worthless ass downstairs right now, and light the candles.”
.....Samuel crawled down the stairs to the basement, cold linoleum and rough cement floor chilling his hands and knees. The dungeon door was open, and Samuel went in, feeling ahead with one hand, so not to run into anything. The candles were in the small cupboard at the far end of the room.
Where were the matches? He felt along the shelf, brushing blindly against rubber and leather, until his fingers found the box. The burst of match head light showed a dozen fat red candles, a black rubber fist dildo and several leather straps with buckles and rings.
Samuel grabbed at a candle as the match guttered out. He could hear her footsteps on the basement stairs, and quickly lit another match, then touched it to the candlewick. The blackness turned to gloom and then to glowing candlelight as he lit the rest of the candles, lining them up in their holders.
.....Connie strode into the dungeon, looking like a sub’s wettest nightmare; golden blonde waves brushing her bare shoulders, a beautifully dangerous face graced with dark eyes and ruby lips, waist nipped and cleavage cradled in a black leather corset, satin undies, legs wrapped in diaphanous silk and feet encased in red patent stilettos with a metal heel that gleamed evilly. She sat on her throne and extended her foot.
Samuel bent forward, from his kneeling position, to kiss the very toe of those cruel shoes, and as he did, Connie pushed the tip into his mouth and said, "Suck my shoe well, unless you want it in your ass dry.” Samuel slicked the leather with saliva, and felt his cock twitch with anticipation.
“Turn around and spread those little boy cheeks.” Connie pushed the toe of her shoe at his asshole, pressing in until she heard the tiniest of gasps.
“Now, repeat after me. I do not have PMS. I’m pissed because you’re an asshole.”
“Yes Mistress. I do not” The lash across his back came from nowhere, stinging.
“Yes Mistress. Mistress does not have PMS.” The lash came again, curling around his side.
“Yes Mistress. Mistress does not have PMS. Mistress is pissed.” And again the lash fell. Samuel gritted his teeth and started again.
“Yes Mistress. Mistress does not have PMS. Mistress is pissed because this worthless slave is an asshole.”
Connie jabbed the toe of the stiletto into his flesh. “Well done. You remembered that you’re an asshole.”
.....She eased her foot away. “Now clean my filthy shoe. It’s been in a very dirty asshole.” Samuel’s cock bobbed and swayed as he licked and sucked at her shoe, his eyes closed.
Connie watched his meat drool a single shiny drop of precum, and licked her lips.
She allowed another moment of sucking, and then pulled her foot from his face. “Enough” she spat. “I see that nasty cock is hard. You know what that means.”
.....“Yes Mistress.” Samuel crawled to the bench, and wormed his way onto it, winding up flat on his back, arms and legs spread out; awaiting the cuffs she would buckle tightly around his limbs. As she strapped him down, she stroked and brushed against his jutting cock, watching it color deeper and deeper, his balls tightening with each touch.
She pulled the blindfold off the hook on the wall, and whispered, “Raise your head.” Connie pushed his bangs back from his forehead, and buckled it, then pushed his head gently back on the bench. She was certain he could smell her, her cunt felt like it was steaming.
.....She slowly picked up the duct tape, and pulled a piece from the roll; then pushed his throbbing cock down, towards his belly, and taped it in place. A low moan escaped Samuel’s lips. “No, no, no. No come until I say so.”
“Yes Mistress.” Samuel grunted through gritted teeth. Connie stepped towards the row of candles, each with their pool of liquid wax, waiting to be applied, and then stopped.
She quickly moved out of her dungeon into the dim basement. She flicked the switch on the freezer icemaker from cube to crushed ice, pressed the lever and filled her hands. She carried it into the dungeon, and laid it in a shallow bowl.
.....“Ready Samuel?” Connie asked. “Uhhhhh-huh, uh, I mean, Yes, um, Mistress”. The elk hide flogger was one of her favorites, and she brought it down hard, across his thighs.
Back and forth rapidly, coloring the flesh and making his groin jump with every stroke. She threw it on the floor and grabbed a candle and a handful of the ice.
The wax dribbled across the head of his cock as she wrapped the handful of crushed ice around his balls. More wax, more ice, his head shook frantically to and fro, and his cock pulling the tape loose from his skin.
Connie poured thin streams of fire over ice covered nipples, and made runners of wax over both thighs, and covered his straining cock in waxy droplets.
.....Taking up the flogger, she beat him from shoulders down, beads of wax and water flying. Samuel grunted as each blow landed, and Connie lashed him harder.
The duct tape let go, and as his cock sprang away from his stomach, Connie landed her final stroke, on that tender cock head skin, made even more tender by wax, and he could hold back no longer.
Samuel’s whole body jerked as come boiled out of his cock. She waited a moment, and then Connie unbuckled the blindfold, and stroked the hair back from his eyes.
She spoke softly, “You know what this means, don’t you Samuel?” “That this worthless asshole is in disgrace?” he replied slowly.
“No, indeed,” Connie said gravely, “ It means that we’ll just have to wait for a few minutes and let you recover. I’ve been having terrible cramps all day, and I think a good long fuck will be far more effective than a Midol.”
I have seen this and will get to it in the next day or so.
rose
I like it.
I may be mistaken, but I think paragraphs should always have a line break between them, even if it just separates lines of dialogue. It makes the text much more readable and easier to follow.
Thank you for your feedback.
I tried to format this piece correctly. Are there guidelines available?Quote:
....but I think paragraphs should always have a line break between them, even if it just separates lines of dialogue. It makes the text much more readable and easier to follow.
When I went to school, back in the dark ages, paragraphs were indented 5 spaces, and dialogue got quotation marks, regardless of position in a paragraph. A line of dialogue was not treated as an independent paragraph.
Would the following be correct formatting?
“Now, repeat after me. I do not have PMS. I’m pissed because you’re an asshole.”
“Yes Mistress. I do not... ellipsis OF” The lash across his back came from nowhere, stinging.
“Yes Mistress. Mistress does not have PMS.” The lash came again, curling around his side.
“Yes Mistress. Mistress does not have PMS. Mistress is pissed.” And again the lash fell. Samuel gritted his teeth and started again.
“Yes Mistress. Mistress does not have PMS. Mistress is pissed because this worthless slave is an asshole.”
Connie jabbed the toe of the stiletto into his flesh.
“Well done. You remembered that you’re an asshole.”
Would dialogue in the middle of a paragraph require a line break before and after? Like so -
She pulled the blindfold off the hook on the wall, and whispered, (doesn't the comma indicate the pause?)
“Raise your head.”
Connie pushed his bangs back from his forehead, and buckled it, then pushed his head gently back on the bench. She was certain he could smell her, her cunt felt like it was steaming.
Again, thanks for your feedback. Was there anything in particular you liked? disliked? I struggled to find her domina vibe, and I'm not sure if it was because she was PMS'ing or just really wanted to fuck him rather than play. Was the ending weak?
I appreciate the formatting issue, and will correct it in future, I'm really hoping for content related feedback as well.
I'm no grammar master, but, yes, the first part looks okay. If a character speaks and that character is performing the action described in the paragraph, then a new paragraph is not necessary.
Tabbing and extra spacing before a paragraph is not possible on this forum, I think.
You did a good job of portraying the femdomme vibe.
I'll let the experts do the complete breakdown.
I'll give you a little feedback on the formatting, Ophelia. Good story starter.
Grammar tipsQuote:
Originally Posted by Ophelia Fey
Story writing is different. Ruby is the grammar maven. She just may correct me. :)Quote:
Originally Posted by Ophelia Fey
Writer's Resources
Quote:
Originally Posted by Ophelia Fey
Would dialogue in the middle of a paragraph require a line break before and after? Like so -
Quote:
Originally Posted by Ophelia Fey
Quote:
Originally Posted by Ophelia Fey
Hi Ophelia Fey,
Formatting for the written word to be printed in a book, is very different than formatting for web readers.
Instead of a tab or 5 spaces, a new parapraph with an blank line before are used, as in your second attempt.
If you are ever submitting anything to be published, and your are using a program like word, make sure to actually use the tab key, not the 5 spaces. People formatting your story will appreciate the ability to quickly find and replace as needed.
There is much discussion about dialog and it's use. Some publishers request that each line of dialog start a new paragraph. Others have different rules.
Also, the length of paragraphs is important as readers screen may be smaller. Think in bite sized bits versus overly large chunks.
Here's a sample of formatting and I've tossed in some punctual / grammar suggestions, too.
Spelling is not my thing, so unless I pull this into a Word document and really look at it - which isn't going to happen right now - we'll focus on the other items.
__________________
"I do not have PMS. I'm pissed because you're an asshole."
Connie slapped the palm of her hand on the table and glared at Samuel. Six feet tall, muscled but not overly buff, with long black bangs that fell over his eyes and a lovely cock and sack that just begged to be tortured, Connie had been seeing Samuel for a little over 3 months. This was the first time he’d slipped.
He’d been a perfect little subbie boy, accepting every tirade of insults, withstanding every lick of the strap, groaning with pleasure every time she stepped on him and dug in with the heel of her stiletto. They had talked for hours. She'd heard his fantasies, his limits and his story.
(Note, I am not a fan of semicolons. While they may be used accruately, they tend to affect thestory pacing. Sometimes using shorter sentences will do. Especially, after the long sentence uses before this.)
She’d laid out the rules of behavior: he was never to touch her without invitation, he would strip bare in the tiny room off the foyer before entering her home and he would submit to her, catering to her every whim within the boundaries.
“It’s apparent we have a serious respect problem, when your mouth opens and that sort of shit falls from it.”
“Yes, Mistress,” Samuel mumbled. “This worthless asshole was only concerned for your health, and forgot its place for a moment.”
(Yes comma Mistress. Mistress would be capped only if this were her name. In this story, since it is the name he calls her, it is used correctly.)
“Exactly, and I’m going to make you seriously regret your forgetfulness.”
She looked at him and felt a tendril of desire brush her neck. She resisted the urge to drag him into the bedroom and fuck him silly.
“Get your worthless ass downstairs right now, and light the candles.”
Samuel crawled down the stairs to the basement, cold linoleum and rough cement floor chilled his hands and knees. The dungeon door was open, and Samuel went in, feeling ahead with one hand, so not to run into anything. The candles were in the small cupboard at the far end of the room.
Where were the matches? He felt along the shelf, brushing blindly against rubber and leather, until his fingers found the box. The burst of match head light showed a dozen fat red candles, a black rubber fist dildo and several leather straps with buckles and rings.
Samuel grabbed at a candle as the match guttered out. He could hear her footsteps on the basement stairs, and quickly lit another match, then touched it to the candlewick. The blackness turned to gloom and then to glowing candlelight as he lit the rest of the candles, lining them up in their holders.
Connie strode into the dungeon, looking like a sub’s wettest nightmare. Golden blonde waves brushed her bare shoulders. She had a beautiful dangerous face graced with dark eyes and ruby lips. Her nipped waist and cleavage cradled in a black leather corset. She also wore satin undies. Her legs were wrapped in diaphanous silk and feet encased in red patent stilettos with a metal heel that gleamed evilly. She sat on her throne and extended her foot.
Samuel bent forward, from his kneeling position, to kiss the very toe of those cruel shoes. As he did, Connie pushed the tip into his mouth and said, "Suck my shoe well, unless you want it in your ass dry.”
Samuel slicked the leather with saliva, and felt his cock twitch with anticipation.
“Turn around and spread those little boy cheeks.”
Connie pushed the toe of her shoe at his asshole, pressing in until she heard the tiniest of gasps.
“Now, repeat after me. I do not have PMS. I’m pissed because you’re an asshole.”
“Yes, Mistress. I do not...”
The lash across his back came from nowhere, stinging.
“Yes, Mistress. Mistress does not have PMS.”
The lash came again, curling around his side.
“Yes, Mistress. Mistress does not have PMS. Mistress is pissed.”
And again the lash fell. Samuel gritted his teeth and started anew.
“Yes, Mistress. Mistress does not have PMS. Mistress is pissed because this worthless slave is an asshole.”
Connie jabbed the toe of the stiletto into his flesh.
“Well done. You remembered that you’re an asshole.”
She eased her foot away.
“Now clean my filthy shoe. It’s been in a very dirty asshole.”
Samuel’s cock bobbed and swayed as he licked and sucked at her shoe, with his eyes closed. Connie watched his meat drool a single shiny drop of precum, and licked her lips. She allowed another moment of sucking, and then pulled her foot from his face.
“Enough,” she spat. “I see that nasty cock is hard. You know what that means.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
Samuel crawled to the bench. Hewormed his way onto it, winding up flat on his back, arms and legs spread out before awaiting
(Or you can start a new senence with He awaited ...)
the cuffs she would buckle tightly around his limbs. As she strapped him down, she stroked and brushed against his jutting cock, watching it color deeper and deeper, his balls tightening with each touch.
She pulled the blindfold off the hook on the wall, and whispered, “Raise your head.”
Connie pushed his bangs back from his forehead, and buckled it, then pushed his head gently back on the bench. She was certain he could smell her. Her cunt felt like it was steaming.
She slowly picked up the duct tape, and pulled a piece from the roll, then pushed his throbbing cock down, towards his belly, and taped it in place. A low moan escaped Samuel’s lips.
“No, no, no. No come until I say so.”
“Yes, Mistress," Samuel grunted through gritted teeth. Connie stepped towards the row of candles, each with their pool of liquid wax, waiting to be applied, and then stopped.
She quickly moved out of her dungeon into the dim basement. She flicked the switch on the freezer icemaker from cube to crushed ice, pressed the lever and filled her hands. She carried it into the dungeon, and laid it in a shallow bowl.
“Ready, Samuel?” Connie asked.
“Uhhhhh-huh, uh, I mean, Yes, um, Mistress”.
The elk hide flogger was one of her favorites, and she brought it down hard, across his thighs, back and forth repeatedly. It rapidly colored the flesh, making his groin jump with every stroke.
She threw it on the floor and grabbed a candle and a handful of the ice. The wax dribbled across the head of his cock as she wrapped the handful of crushed ice around his balls.
More wax, more ice, his head shook frantically to and fro, with his cock pulling the tape loose from his skin. Connie poured thin streams of fire over ice covered nipples, and made runners of wax over both thighs, and covered his straining cock in waxy droplets.
Taking up the flogger, she beat him from the shoulders down to something. Beads of wax and water flew. Samuel grunted as each blow landed, and Connie lashed him harder.
The duct tape let go. As his cock sprang away from his stomach, Connie landed her final stroke, on that tender cock head skin, made even more sensitive by wax, and he could hold back no longer.
Samuel’s whole body jerked as come boiled out of his cock. She waited a moment, doing or felling something. Descriptive word with an -ly, Connie unbuckled the blindfold, and stroked the hair back from his eyes.
She spoke softly, “You know what this means, don’t you, Samuel?”
“That this worthless asshole is in disgrace?” he replied slowly.
“No, indeed,” Connie said gravely. “ It means that we’ll just have to wait for a few minutes and let you recover. I’ve been having terrible cramps all day, and I think a good long fuck will be far more effective than a Midol.”
(C) 2007 Ophelia Fey All rights reserved.
__________________
I'd like everyone to please get in the habit of protecting their works with blatent copyrighting on the forums. If it's a work in progress. You can say that.
(C) 2007 Ophelia Fey - Draft in progress. All rights reserved.
Now about this delightfully wicked tale, I loved the punchline. This story cracked me up. Cranky Mistress pummels submissive. Submissive enjoys the outcome, and yet, is not sure of the end result. When she breaks it to him, it made me smile all over.
It's nice to see past and active tenses used.
The long sentences need to be broken up or not. Pacing can be tricky and the goal is to think about how you want your reader to feel. Long sentences, tend to lull the reader. Shorter, punchier sentences, help pick up the heart rate.
Keep up the great work,
Ruby
Thank you. I appreciate the grammar and punctuation corrections, I should revise and edit more thoroughly. Some of your points I will incorporate, but other parts, I like far better the way I wrote them, and am disinclined to change them. I've rewritten and rewritten this response, trying not to sound like such a cunt.
I think the thing that bothers me the most is the idea that I have to cater to readers with attention spans of gnats. What if the pace and mood are not about quickly beating hearts and a lunchtime splooge under the desk?
Should there be some sort of warning - this story is not paced or written for those in a hurry?
I'm not interested in punchy. Readers should do cardio if they want to increase their heart rates. I enjoy long, luscious sentences, stretched out like caramel; with a long finish, like a Pinot Noir full of black fruit.
I want to devour slow, intricate, detailed, mind fuck sex stories, and I aspire to write them as well.
I'm certain that I'm not alone in seeking out stories that are detailed and require the reader to engage. If the expectation is to write to some common denominator, maybe this course isn't for me.
Hi Ophilia Fey,Quote:
Originally Posted by Ophelia Fey
Take what you will you are the creator of your piece, I just offer suggestions. There are clearly many ways to write about the same thing and you as the author get to pick the way you want to craft your story.
Huh?Quote:
I think the thing that bothers me the most is the idea that I have to cater to readers with attention spans of gnats.
You crack me up. Write for yourself first. The rest of us are here to encourage you, and help take your writing to the next level, wherever that may be.Quote:
What if the pace and mood are not about quickly beating hearts and a lunchtime splooge under the desk?
Should there be some sort of warning - this story is not paced or written for those in a hurry?
The pace and mood of any piece are up to you, unless you've been assigned something that states otherwise.
Warning: You may not like or enjoy all of the writing assignments in this course.
;)Quote:
I'm not interested in punchy. Readers should do cardio if they want to increase their heart rates.
Go you!Quote:
I enjoy long, luscious sentences, stretched out like caramel; with a long finish, like a Pinot Noir full of black fruit. I want to devour slow, intricate, detailed, mind fuck sex stories, and I aspire to write them as well.
Knowing what you like to read and what you want to write can make things much easier in the long run.
No, you aren't alone.Quote:
I'm certain that I'm not alone in seeking out stories that are detailed and require the reader to engage.
Where the frack did that come from?Quote:
If the expectation is to write to some common denominator, maybe this course isn't for me.
Who on earth asked you to do that?
Are you reading more into the suggestions than are written?
When any of your instructors or fellow students offer pointers, you can do what you want with them.
This is a volunteer course. We are all volunteering our time and energy to help and encourage each other. There are no formal grades, and you won't get a certificate for passing this course.
Your ego may not always like the comments about any of your assignments, or the suggestions given from members in this area. That's reality.
What concerns me most, is that I really liked your story, and you seem to be full of piss and vinegar because my editing suggestions weren't as you might have wanted them. Heck, after a re-read, they may not be as I would have wanted them either. That's why they were just suggestions.
To your success,
Ruby
Ruby -
If my response is full of piss and vinegar, I shudder to think what you would have said about my original response. In what I finally posted, I tried very hard NOT to be nasty, NOT to be full of "piss and vinegar".
I apologise for coming off that way.
Thank you again for your responses and suggestions,
Ophelia
Ophelia,
My two cents...
Write for yourself. The talent will shine through because YOU will be in it, driving the characters, the action, etc. The mechanics will follow.
The hardest part of writing is what you are going through right now, the critiques and edits. It's absolutely worse than giving birth to a hard stool. Gross isn't it, but you get what I mean.
My beloved writes long, wordy, descriptive, multi-idea type sentences. He gets bashed and praised for them.
If you read the reviews on the stories some of the instructor's have received on their work, you'd be scratching your head trying to figure out why they still feel the desire to write.
Look at some of mine. Most of the lower scores are because the story wasn't long enough. :30: I definitely learned from most of the critiques. There was no forum like this other than Mad's Short Takes. Several of us edit each other's work and take pride in being asked to do so.
Consider this, if it is tough having to do the re-writes after considering the suggestions and edits others have made, just think of how difficult it has to be for them. They don't have to do it.
Editorially yours,
Nikita
Probably the same thing. ;)Quote:
Originally Posted by Ophelia Fey
You're forgiven.Quote:
I apologise for coming off that way.
Thank you again for your responses and suggestions,
Ophelia
If I've offended you, please forgive me.
To your success,
Ruby
I think you have missed the point. The pacing is yours to determine. Making the story readable, even easily readable is also your responsibility.Quote:
Originally Posted by Ophelia Fey
I’ve always thought writing is a social act. We (the editorial we) write to be read. Unless you want to be writing for yourself or to impress the masses with your word-smithing skills, it’s important to convey your thoughts actions and descriptions in a readable and entertaining fashion.
No it should be obvious within a paragraph or two. It is however a story code in the themes section of the story codes.Quote:
Originally Posted by Ophelia Fey
Your interests are fine but should not limit your writing skills. Some stories need slow languid development. At times, contrast may become the best way to stress that. Beyond that point developing an ability to describe an event or action with an economy of words is often a blessing to both reader and writer. We (the editorial we) are here to learn a variety of writing skills, not just to reinforce our own preferences.Quote:
Originally Posted by Ophelia Fey
Again we return to the basics, writing is a social exercise. The academy (at this point) has a common denominator called English. You will be asked to stretch your style, given assignments you are not interested in, and taught skills you may never wish to use again. Whether you stay the course is entirely up to you.Quote:
Originally Posted by Ophelia Fey
Yours
Mad Lews