TYWD's 2nd 1st 3rd Level Assignment (Part I)

[ThisYouWillDo]

I'm posting this now because I don't know how much more there is to come, and I'd rather like some feedback.

Enjoy ... then tear it apart!

The Tale of Elenore o’ the Hill

-I-

As I looked out from Eildon Hill towards Earlston, where Thomas the Rhymer had lived during the Middle Ages, and beyond there towards the Lammermuirs, I sat in the warm Summer sunshine among the yellow gorse, contemplating my life so far in. A girl of nearly 18 years, who knew nothing but the simple folk she lived with, but nevertheless, a girl who was more or less content with the way her life was turning out. Certainly I had few worries: I was well cared for, and I had so many friends in this small community. No-one minded that I was different from them, and neither did I. I played as important a role in their lives as they did in mine, and I belonged. After all this time, I had completely forgotten my natural parents, and Gelsey was step-mother to me now. I had grown to love her as my real mother. I remember I was distraught when I first arrived here as a child. I was completely disoriented and terrified. The place seemed dark and dank and cold: a miserable place. But Gelsey gently pacified me, held me until I stopped trembling and brushed away my tears, smiling soothingly at me as she did so. The lavender I could smell on her also seemed to comfort me. She was calm and serene, completely in control. I still remember how she held my hand and took me into her home. I felt safer just holding her hand, her long smooth fingers, slightly warm but not clammy. She looked lovely. Slim and graceful and probably only a year or so older than I am now. Her long flaxen hair reached right down her back. Her voice was soft and light; not a note of harshness in it. Her face, so pretty: small, prim mouth with perfect M-shaped lips and her nose turned up in a way that is cute on little children. Her eyes, which were large and soft, had a deep emerald colour that you could almost fall into. Her eyelashes were long and thick and curved gracefully as she blinked. She wore a beautiful green dress, trimmed with gold piping. It clung to her perfect body, and I wished I could have a dress just like it. When she moved she seemed to go between the shadows and you could hardly hear her footsteps on the ground; she barely disturbed the leaves beneath her feet. Once inside Gelsey’s home, she gave me something hot to eat and drink, and I began to warm up and feel better. Once I realised I wasn’t going to be hurt by anyone, I began to relax. I was no longer frightened and I realised I had no choice but to accept my situation until I escaped or was rescued.


I never was rescued, and, after only a short while, I began to forget where I came from: I no longer wished to escape. Days turned into weeks, months and then years. I would run around barefoot, playing with the others, helping with the chores and generally having the time of my life. We made our own entertainment and our remote little community was completely self-sufficient. Self-sufficient, that is, in everything except children. The birth rate was very low, and often the children that were born were deformed in some way. This was probably the result of too much inter-marriage. Contacts with the outside world were rare and as a result, everybody seemed to be related to everyone else. Eventually it was deemed necessary to kidnap healthy young people like me to strengthen their blood lines. So you could call me a prisoner if you like, but if I am, I have as much freedom as I could ask for. Besides, I wouldn’t know how to find my home if I wanted to. As I said, I am quite content with my lot here. If I am to be treated as something like a brood mare, then that’s fine by me, too.

Memories do play strange tricks on you, however, because Gelsey’s home was always bright, dry and warm, and not cold and dreary as I had first imagined it. All around there were singing birds, deer tame enough to let you stroke them, heather-covered hills as far as the eye can see, and shining rivers running across them like silvery ribbons dropped upon the ground. But sometimes, if I peeped through half-closed eyes, or if I had a bad daydream, it did seem as though everything had been covered with a thin veneer of warmth and light, and just beneath, a banished world, damp and dreary, was lurking, waiting to seep through and spoil the magical beauty of this place. I decided I was just being over-imaginative and put those thoughts aside.

As I was sitting the hillside, I saw another outsider walking by, at a little distance from where I was. This was Thomas Lyn, or Tam as we all knew him. He had been much older when he was brought here than I was. He was a full-grown man of twenty-five years or more. He arrived about six or seven years ago, but never really settled. As outsiders, we had become good friends, however, and we would often chat together. Mostly our conversations were about Tam’s life back in the outside world, and what life was like there. It all seemed so very strange to me.

I waved to him, “Hello, there, Tam.”

“Hello yourself, Elen” he replied. He always contracted Elenore to Elen, and I had never been able to decide if I liked it or not. He walked past me and gave me his usual friendly smile. Then he stopped, stooped down and plucked a buttercup from the ground. He walked towards me, holding it out for me to take.

“For the lovely Elenore o’ the Hill,” he said. My full name: I was impressed. I accepted the token, put it to my lips and offered it back. Tam paid no attention.

“Come sit with me, Tam.”

“Not now,” he said. “I have to get back before I get into trouble.”

“Trouble? Are you in trouble again?”

“No, not yet. But I will be if Titania wants me and I’m not there.” Titania was the one who had brought Tam back here. He had once told me about it. He was out riding and had stopped to take the view. Actually, he had stopped here on Eildon Hill because of the beautiful scenery in all directions. As he was resting in the sunlight, he thought he heard the sound of other people nearby. Turning round he saw Titania and her companions heading straight for him in a most determined manner. Sensing trouble, Tam quickly tried to ride away. But Titania was angry that he had intruded into her domain and wasn’t ready to let him escape. As he passed her, she flung herself at him with all her force and knocked him off-balance. Tam fell to the ground, ending up up-ended ignominiously in the bush. He was immediately overpowered and brought back into the hillside. And here he has remained, servant to Titania, and bound to satisfy her every whim.

At first Tam had been stubborn and tried to refuse Titania’s orders, but she is not used to disobedience and will not tolerate it. Tam was bound to a tree, his shirt torn off his back, and he was flogged viciously by a dwarfish-looking man with a whip until he passed out and Titania told him to stop. He was left there all night and no-one was allowed to go near him.

Next morning, Gelsey and her sister, Mabs, were told to see to his wounds, and I was to help so that I could learn some of their healing skills. Tam was carefully released from the tree, and brought inside. A fire was made up to warm him and he was made to drink some dwale*, which I had been instructed on how to prepare. After a while, Tam became drowsy under the influence of the dwale, and soon fell asleep. He was laid, face down, on a soft bed. Gently, Mabs and Gelsey began to clean the wheals on Tam’s back. They used lavender honey as an antiseptic and then placed clean bandages on him to protect the wounds and to keep them clean. He was then left to sleep until the evening, when the wounds were cleaned and dressed again. He awoke the next morning, in pain still, but able to move, and the wounds were already showing signs of healing.

As it was I who was nursing him, he was openly hostile towards me initially. But he soon realised I was trying to help him get better and his attitude towards me changed. When Mabs and I were straightening his bed, he asked me my name and I told him.

“What is this place?” he asked “And who are all these little people?” I could see Mabs bridle at the words “little people.”

“Well,” I answered, “I’m not as tall as you, but I think calling me “little” is way off the mark.”

“Not you. The others,” he retorted, indicating Mabs as an example of “the others”. “She” (meaning Mabs again) “is tiny. We’re giants among them.”

I wondered if Tam’s whipping had affected his head or his eyesight. I had never felt particularly tall by comparison with everyone else. Why would I? Meanwhile, Mabs huffed and puffed, obviously put out by Tam’s attitude.

“Don’t tell me you can’t see that,” he added.

“We are as you want us to be,” said Mabs. “So if you don’t like what you see, you had better look to your own attitude, or get used to it.” With that she flounced out, leaving Tam and me alone.

“I see her as a wizened old crone,” Tam said conspiratorially. I hushed him. Mabs was the equal of Gelsey in her appearance, grace and kindness, and I wouldn’t hear a word against her. “You really don’t see it do you?” he said.

“No!” I said, feeling anger rising and reddening my cheeks. “Mabs has taken care of you, healed your whip lashes, and is looking after you despite your cruel remarks because she’s a sweet, kind person. And as for calling her a crone, she’s one of the loveliest people here, more beautiful even than Queen Titania …”

Tam cleared his throat and, looking past me, nodded. I turned. Mabs was standing there, listening to what I was saying, and Gelsey was standing beside her. I could see she was proud of me for my defence of Mabs, but uncomfortable too. Uncomfortable because Titania was standing behind her. She had come to see how her new servant was recovering. Titania looked at me. She had eyes like wood violets and her thick auburn hair fell down past her shoulders. She wore a grass-green silk dress and an olive mantle over her shoulders. Around her head she wore a golden band with a single emerald on its front. Titania’s eyes held mine. She seemed to look right inside me and I knew I could have no secrets from her. She, too, was very good-looking, although little older than Gelsey and Mabs. “More beautiful than I?” she enquired, stepping forward. She turned and regarded Mabs for a moment or two and then added, “Hmmm … maybe.” She gave me a good natured smile then turned to Tam.

“Are you feeling better, Thomas Lyn?”

Tam pretended to ignore her, although he was clearly startled to discover that his identity was already known.

“I can have you whipped again.”

“Please … no!” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

“Leave us!” commanded Titania, all indulgence gone. Gelsey and Mabs hurriedly shoo’d me out and left Tam and his new mistress alone.

After some time, during which Titania set the terms on which Tam would stay here. Tam first argued and then tried to reason and negotiate with her. Finally he agreed to them all. Eventually they both emerged from the room, Titania first, and Tam following behind, a steel collar around his neck and a chain running down from a loop on the collar to some ankle and wrist cuffs. He was unable to meet my eyes as he was led past me.

That evening, Titania ordered a feast to be held. She wanted to show off her new toy. I had to rush round with everyone else preparing the tables in the Great Hall, and helping to prepare the food and drink. An old man with a long white beard came into the Hall and took charge of everything. This was Thomas the Rhymer, who had returned to this domain after living for a while as a prophesier in the outside world. His ability to organise was amazing, and was no doubt due to his infallible ability to anticipate what needed doing next. Eventually, he realised that music would be needed and went away again to organise this.

At last, all was ready for the feast, and we all returned home to get ready ourselves. After I had bathed, Gelsey dried my hair for me. She reminded me of when I had first arrived and asked me what I remembered about it. I told her about how everything seemed dark and scary, but she had made me feel safe.

“Do you remember what you wished for?” she asked.

“No … wait. Yes! You had a lovely dress and I wanted one like it.” Gelsey pointed to a parcel on the table. I went over and opened it. Inside was a new dress, just like the one Gelsey had worn. I was so excited. I had to put it on immediately. It fitted me perfectly and I felt wonderful.

“How did you know?”

“Because I have always known when my sweet Elenore wanted anything,” she answered teasingly.

I smiled back. “You hadn’t known me more than ten minutes at the time I wished for that, I answered.”

Gelsey just smiled in a superior sort of way. “I knew what you were wishing for,” she said.

I left it at that.

It’s for tonight?” I asked.

Gelsey laughed. “Of course, you silly goose,” she said. Then she added wistfully, “And you’ll be the prettiest girl there.”

When we arrived at the Great Hall, Thomas the Rhymer asked me to serve the two new musicians who had just arrived. Marigold, a friend of about my own age, was going to help me. As they came in, looking a bit awestruck at the sight of the feast, we greeted them and took them to a side table.

“Good evening, Fergus o’Feshie,” said Marigold. She placed food and wine in front of the musicians.

“Welcome, Tom-an-Torran,” said I. “Eat and drink your fill. After you have eaten, you will play for us.”

They were surprised we knew their names and where they came from; we were equally surprised that they thought we wouldn’t. However, they brushed this aside and set to their meal with a will, as if they had not eaten all day.

When everyone had arrived, Titania made her entrance. The room hushed as they beheld this spectacle of beauty commanding everyone’s attention. Her pupils had been widened with belladonna, and rimmed with soot. Her lips were coloured with berry-stained beeswax. As always, her dress was green, but this one was spectacular, made of a gossamer thin material whose threads were as fine as spider-web. Only the fact that there were several layers to the dress provided her with any modesty at all. She was adorned with sparkling jewellery in her hair, which had been piled up for the evening. She had a heavy necklace around her neck and chains and bangles on her ankles and wrists.

Behind her came Tam. He still had his steel collar on, and the wrist and ankle cuffs too, but the chain had been removed. He followed her silently and obediently, looking down at the floor, and kneeling beside her when she sat at the table. For all that Titania had subdued him, Tam retain his pride and dignity, and my heart went out to him as I watched him waiting for a command from his mistress, and executing it as soon as it was given. Titania was clearly pleased with him.

At last, the meal was finished, the tables were cleared, and moved aside to allow room for dancing. Fergus and Tom, the musicians, took up their fiddles and began to play for all they were worth. The music was fast and furious, and everyone was enjoying themselves enormously. Young Orin, whose parents had come over from Ireland to settle here, danced with me once and asked me a second time. When Marigold looked at me with pursed lips, teasingly, I became coy and said “no”. Poor Orin looked so embarrassed as he went back to his friends. I noticed he didn’t dance with anyone at all after that, so, eventually, I went over to him and started to talk to him. Clearly this pleased him, and restored his “credibility” among his friends. I waited for him to ask for another dance, but he didn’t do so, and suddenly Marigold came over and dragged him onto the floor to dance with herself.

All this was forgotten, however, when Oberon stopped the music and called for everyone’s attention. All eyes were turned towards him as he began speaking. He welcomed Tam as Titania’s new servant, and promised him a good living while he attended to her needs faithfully. He also thanked the musicians, who, it transpired, were last-minute stand-ins. The whole Hall clapped and cheered heartily, and Tom and Fergus stood up to receive the applause. Meanwhile, Gelsey had come over to me and taken me to the side of the room, as Marigold’s parents had done with her. Oberon now glanced down at both of us.

“As you know, Marigold and Elenore have now come of age and will have to choose husbands this year. We are hopeful that they will both bring us many beautiful babies to brighten up our abode.” He paused. “Come up here, you two.”

We were propelled by the others up to where Oberon stood, and he looked at each of us admiringly. “Tonight, you will both serve me. And tomorrow, you will begin to look for husbands. I’m sure you will have many of the menfolk flocking at your door. Choose well – but beware,” he chuckled, “some of them will already be married!”

The room roared at Oberon’s joke and, as his speech was clearly over, refreshed their drinks and called for more music. Meanwhile, Gelsey kissed me on the forehead and told me to serve Oberon generously. We were then led away. As I walked out of the room, I noticed Orin looking wistfully at me. I smiled at him and he gave a half wave in return, but no smile.


Marigold and I were led to Oberon’s chamber. It was enormous – better, cavernous. More food and drink was laid out on a table at one end. A couple of easy chairs were arranged by an open fireplace. All around were bookshelves crammed with heavy books of great antiquity. At the other end of the room was an enormous four-poster bed. Marigold and I stood speechless, uncertain what to do.

Oberon had no such uncertainties; he went straight to the table and helped himself to a heaped plateful of food, and some wine. He motioned towards us to do the same, his mouth already too full to speak. We went over and politely took a morsel of food, but we weren’t at all hungry. Nervously we smiled at each other and waited for the next development. This took the form of a detailed visual examination by Oberon as he stuffed more food into his face. He complimented us both on our dresses. Marigold’s was a flimsy one, similar to the one Titania had worn, but shorter and fewer layers. Oberon’s lust was clearly aroused as he looked at us: at Marigold in particular. He reached out and fondled her breasts. She flinched at first, but then relaxed, knowing that this was why we were here. Oberon always had the new girls as they became of age, and we girls knew what would happen. Girls talk – even when we’re not meant to. OK – there are times when we have to keep secrets, but this was a matter of concern to us all, and so details of this initiation rite were passed down from older girls to the younger ones throughout the ages.

Oberon’s hand slid underneath her dress and between her legs. She moved them apart a little and his hand slid round and held her pussy. She pressed back onto his hand, and Oberon smiled at her reaction. Suddenly, and without warning, he forced her to lean over the table, pulled her dress up around her waist and entered her from behind. He began pounding into her hard and fast. Marigold was taken by surprise at this sudden development, but quickly adjusted to the situation and began to moan as Oberon pummelled into her. In no time it seemed like Oberon was ready to come. Marigold encouraged him to fuck her like a common tramp. I didn’t realise she even knew how to screw before. Oberon was about to burst. Will a mighty cry of pain and ecstasy, he released a prodigious amount of cum as he climaxed. Turning her head to one side, she winked at me. She was faking it!

Unfortunately, Oberon saw the wink too, and the little grin I had given in acknowledgement of Marigold’s smile. Spitting rage and fury, he withdrew from Marigold’s cunt while still spurting semen. He grabbed me by the hair and forced me down while he rammed his cock deep into my mouth. I was choking, spluttering and swallowing all at the same time. My eyes were full of tears, partly because I felt he was tearing my hair out by the roots, and partly because I couldn’t breathe and had what seemed like gallons of sperm pumping down inside me. Eventually, he was exhausted. He then withdrew and made me clean his dick by licking and sucking it. He enjoyed it so much, he made me do it several times.

He then turned to Marigold and slapped her hard. I don’t like being made fun of, he said, especially not like that.

Marigold apologised, and Oberon winked at her. He had been teasing her to get his own back. Then, to make up for her disappointment, Oberon ordered me to clean her pussy while he watched. Marigold’s legs were spread apart and I knelt between them. I started to lick the mess around her pubic hair, and then slipped my tongue between her labia. Marigold’s moans were genuine ones this time, as she arched her back in pleasure as I licked her out. Suddenly I felt a hard dull ache in my back passage. Oberon had become so aroused watching me and Marigold that he decided to fuck my arse at the same time. It hurt as be pressed into my anus, and with Oberon pounding at me, it was hard to concentrate on Marigold. Both of them told me not to stop, however, and I did my best. Oberon and Marigold came together, with me sandwiched in between. Marigold began bucking and writhing, her juices seeping from her pussy and mingling with the remains of Oberon’s cum. I sucked her hard and licked and nibbled on her clit. Her rocking pushed my head back and forth quite violently, leaving me with a sore neck and bruised lips. Meanwhile, Oberon’s exertions had ripped the opening of my back passage as he had forced his dick deep between my buttocks and filled my arse with a fresh load of cum, and I was dripping his spunk and my blood.

After this, we all fell in a heap, exhausted. Marigold and Oberon were fully satisfied, but I was merely aroused. I had not been given the chance to climax and I groaned my disappointment.

At that, Oberon grabbed me and took me to his bed, where he tied my hands and feet to the posts at the foot, so that I stood spread-eagled and immobile. He forced three small metal balls inside my pussy and told me that if I wanted to cum, I should work on those balls. He then took Marigold to bed and they quickly fell asleep.

I was annoyed at the way things had turned out, especially as I was being made to stand in such an uncomfortable position. The balls inside me began to make themselves felt. They felt smooth and heavy, and inside each one was another that would roll around with every slight movement I made. I tried to think of other things: I thought about the look on Orin’s face as I left the Hall. I thought about Tam with Titania and wondered what they were doing. But I could still feel the inner balls moving as if they were rolling freely around my insides. On top of this, the balls seemed to grow bigger and bigger within me as my mind became focused on them in the dark. My arms began to ache, but if I tried to move to relieve them, the balls inside me moved, and each little movement became more intense than the one before. My legs became numb and, being spread apart, I found it more and more difficult to support my weight. If I shifted onto one foot or the other, the balls would move. Furthermore, I would not be able to hold the position for long and would soon have to shift back to my original position. My aches and pains grew more intense. The only good thing about that was, it dulled the desire to cum.

Time passed slowly, deep into the night. I could hear Oberon and Marigold breathing gently in their sleep. Now and then, they would turn over or change their positions. The balls inside me even responded to that. Gradually the tension they were building up inside me overpowered my discomfort and I realised I was heading for a climax. I bit my lip. I wasn’t sure how I would deal with it, or even if I could. I fought it back, but each time I did, the feeling returned, stronger and more insistent than before. I closed my eyes and leant my head back, trying to relax myself. My knees would bend and I would be holding my weight on my wrists. But despite all my efforts at self-control, the tension was taking me over entirely and, at last, I had to give into it. My body went rigid all over – apart from at the knees, which could no longer support me for more than a minute or two at a time. My arms pulled against the bedposts to which they were tied as if I were a Sampson, trying to pull back the pillars I had just pushed over. They began to creak. Gradually I began to shake. “Noooooooo” I moaned as the tension inside me mounted, intensifying itself as the balls inside me jiggled more and more. Instinctively, I was still trying to hold back. I was also trying not to wake up the other two. But my climax was getting nearer and stronger. It was inevitable, and I forgot everything else. My body spasms took over completely now, and I was only vaguely aware that first Oberon, and then Marigold had woken up and were watching me in the pale light of the dawn.

I lost control completely. I shook and shuddered. I moaned and groaned loudly as the pressure inside me - spreading up from my cunt into my stomach, and then all over me - grew more and more intense. I squeezed onto the balls until I thought they would meld into each other under the pressure. And then it came. My eyes lost all vision except a bright light inside my head. My whole being was focused on my pussy and the balls inside it and I shook once, twice, three times, so hard it hurt. I was overcome by the feeling. My arms felt as if they were being pulled out of their sockets, and my legs could no longer even pretend to support me. Two or three more surges passed through my body, each one a little less intense than the other. And then it was over. I sagged from my bonds, wasted. And then I began to cry silently as I hung there, helpless.

I hadn’t wanted my first experience to be like that. I had wanted to give myself to someone, and to have been wanted in return, even if only in lust. I didn’t want to be a mere display. Oberon grunted and turned over to go back to sleep. Then Marigold silently got out of bed and gently undid the ropes that tied me. I sagged into her arms, and she pulled me back onto the bed and climbed in beside me. Then she kissed me, and caressed by breasts. I moaned: “No, I can’t take any more” But she continued to stroke my hair and softly caress my body, and as my aches began to recede a little, she started to kiss my stomach. Her fingers stroked my pussy and I did not resist. Then she slid them inside me and found the cord the balls were attached to. Gently she eased them out of me. It hurt as she pulled, and at times I thought she was going to pull all of my insides out. But eventually they came out and I felt much freer and lighter. She kissed my pussy as if to make it better and then lay beside me.

“I’m going to make that cunt mine one day,” she whispered, then, putting an arm over me, we both fell asleep.

o0O0o


Will Marigold and Elenore become lesbian lovers?

What was Orin thinking as he watched Elenore being taken to Oberon’s chamber?

What will happen to Tam? Does he get to shag Titania? Or Elenore, come to think of it?

For the answer to this and many other questions, you’d better hope I finish this story …


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Author’s note: Although characters from real life and from traditional tales feature in this story, real places are mentioned, and certain events related here are also happen in those folk stories, the main protagonists and the storyline of this tale are entirely original.




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* Dwale is an ancient anaesthetic made of bile, lettuce, vinegar, and bryony root, plus hemlock, opium, and henbane

[Mad Lews]

Tam Lynn and the Fey Queen? Triston and Elanore lost among the wee folk? The Fairy court on display.. You’ve made generous hints at the exotic nature of these creatures but I feel you could do a bit more.
You seem at times a bit lost in the verbage. That’s a crime I’ve committed myself.
An example,
‘After all this time, I had completely forgotten my natural parents, and Gelsey was step-mother to me now. I had grown to love her as my real mother.’
Nothing improper mind you but it might be tightened to a single thought, and sentence, which would give it more force.
Something like “After a time I’d forgotten my natural parents, Gelsey was the only mother I (knew/had). Just a few spots like that but feel free to look for ways to tighten the tale. Myself I find I do the verbal wandering when I’m unsure of the direction of the tale and the story tightens again once I know where it is headed.
Another thought you might consider
You’ve hinted at the exotic nature of these beings but at the same time given nothing specific they could easily be plain old Welshmen, or worse. How about instead of such mundane words as cunt, cock, and seman etc you come up with your own vocabulary. It’s amazing how obvious made up words become in context, repetition is much less a problem when introducing new words and if used consistently you may even start something. I mean arse was just a misspelled mule before the English started snickering and shag is a rug, not a verb, on this side of the pond.

A point that might need a little more clarity is the bondage scene

‘At that, Oberon grabbed me and took me to his bed, where he tied my hands and feet to the posts at the foot, so that I stood spread-eagled and immobile ’
Now I know you are technically correct in your description, but it may play against a readers preconceived notions. A reader might imagine her spread eagled across the bed, a more common use for that word. You may find it more useful to emphasize the standing part for your reader.
Simply changing “ At that(actually you could drop ‘at that’ all together) Oberon grabbed me and stood me at the end of his bed, where he tied my hands and feet to the bed posts so I was upright, open, and immobile”
Yes I’d hope for you to continue and may actually assign it if you’re not careful
Yours
Truly Mad
Lews

[tessa]

I do like the imaginative aspect to your story. The hot sex didn't hurt my feelings, either.

This would make for a great chapter story. That way you could develop each character and storyline even more and give your readers a bigger treat. (Not that bigger is always better, but in this case, it would be.)

tessa

[ThisYouWillDo]

It's hard to know what to reveal and what to let your reader discover, knowing that one reader will discover more than another, while yet another (assuming I have such a large audience as three) will take it all at face-value. My solution was to reveal everything as slowly as possible, to facilitate "discovery" by the reader, but not to withhold information necessary for plot development (this sounds grand, doesn't it? The story came straight out of my head: even where I planned ahead, things worked out differently from what I thought would happen.)

Yes I did get lost - several times. I tried to get back on track where I could. But thank-you for your suggestion, I do like your suggested replacement.

As for replacing mundane words with "my own vocabulary" are you suggesting I use made-up words? Or high fallutin' ones? I recall reading that, when writing erotic prose one should never shy away from calling a pussy a cunt, because to call it a vagina might destroy a reader's suspension of disbelief: people just don't call it that, not even at the doctor's. However, I am simply making a point in response to yours, which I do accept. It's a question of judgement I guess.

Or is the problem simply one of trans-Atlantic differences? With all due respect, I'm not inclined to make that accomodation. I have to accept American English where I come across it. I expect the same courtesy in return.

Ian Paisley (yes that <expletive deleted>) once said that Gaelic is the language of the fairies - intending to disparage Irish culture as trivial and meaningless. Picking up on that thought, why don't I introduce words like:-

piseag (cunt); bod (dick) ... I could go on ...

And as for the bondage scene, I was vaguely aware of the ambiguity there, but decided the reader would work it out for himself - which was lazy of me, I admit. I'll amend it.

Thanks for the comments

TYWD

[Mad Lews]

It's hard to know what to reveal and what to let your reader discover, knowing that one reader will discover more than another, while yet another (assuming I have such a large audience as three) will take it all at face-value. My solution was to reveal everything as slowly as possible, to facilitate "discovery" by the reader, but not to withhold information necessary for plot development (this sounds grand, doesn't it? The story came straight out of my head: even where I planned ahead, things worked out differently from what I thought would happen.)

Every reader comes to you with a different background, you try to work with them as best you can. Some will never 'get' your cleverness or nuanced prose. Just be sure they still understand and are interested in the tale you weave.

As for replacing mundane words with "my own vocabulary" are you suggesting I use made-up words? Or high fallutin' ones? I recall reading that, when writing erotic prose one should never shy away from calling a pussy a cunt, because to call it a vagina might destroy a reader's suspension of disbelief: people just don't call it that, not even at the doctor's. However, I am simply making a point in response to yours, which I do accept. It's a question of judgement I guess.

Or is the problem simply one of trans-Atlantic differences? With all due respect, I'm not inclined to make that accomodation. I have to accept American English where I come across it. I expect the same courtesy in return.

Ian Paisley (yes that <expletive deleted>) once said that Gaelic is the language of the fairies - intending to disparage Irish culture as trivial and meaningless. Picking up on that thought, why don't I introduce words like:-

piseag (cunt); bod (dick) ... I could go on ...



Thanks for the comments

TYWD

Yes!! Make it up. A personal variation on Gaelic seems particularly appropriate. Whilst writing smut/erotica one need not shy away from calling a pussy or prick exactly what it is in common parlance you seem to have strayed into erotic fantasy; I think in this case a more exotic vocabulary might add to the story. No I'm not suggesting you break out a medical dictionary to introduce clinical terminology. I'm thinking you want to be more fanciful than that.

As for the Feminine Point of View, I for one think you did a fairly good job; But then I'm a guy so what do I know.
Mad

[ThisYouWillDo]

As for the Feminine Point of View, I for one think you did a fairly good job; But then I'm a guy so what do I know.
Mad

Please, girls, tell me the truth. It's what the exercise is all about, really.

[ThisYouWillDo]

But do you believe I'm a girl?

[ThisYouWillDo]

Tristan & Isolde will be my primoris magnus opus, I hope.

[ThisYouWillDo]

I've had a bit of a writing break, and I now return to this

"You’ve made generous hints at the exotic nature of these creatures but I feel you could do a bit more."

As already noted, I am aware of this problem, and am releasing the information gradually. Remember the story's incomplete. How could you not know that ... sorry!


You note I am wordy at times. I am actually having problems recognising what is excessive. I see it clearly in your example, but not elsewhere: to me it's all necessary. So, I've decided, as an exercise, to reduce the whole thing by 5%. Hopefully that will force me to be more succinct.

As for inventing my own vocabulary, I'm no Tolkein, but I'll have a go. I'm not enthusiastic about it, however.

I'll deal with the bondage scene as you suggest.


I hope to conclude it later

Thanks

TYWD

[Mad Lews]

Taps fingers on desk

[ThisYouWillDo]

Haven't been able to focus on it ... I will make myself. A little more patience, please.

[Mad Lews]

Haven't been able to focus on it ... I will make myself. A little more patience, please.

"You must posses discipline if you hope to dispense it." Sir Stephen

Just a meditation from the old school

Mad

[Mad Lews]

Part Two?

Just to be aware the second part of the assignment is to take the same story (or in your case story line) and tell it in first person from the male perspective. Chose the male character best able to do so. If you're feeling charitable you can use the exercise to further enlighten your readers.

Mad