Nikita's first level three assignment

Write a scene/chapter/short story in the first person.
If you are male, write the story from the POV of a female leading character.
If you are female, write the story from the POV of a leading male character.
The scene/chapter/story should have at least one male and one female character.

This is a short scene, just over 300 words. I've never written anything from a first person male POV. It was difficult. That's why I wanted to do this assignment.

Red Lipstick

Why hasn't that asshole sent those surveillance pictures?

Under my desk, the slut of the day was busily slobbering over my cock.

I grabbed her by the hair to see the smeared red lips before I barked, "Get on the desk."

She was a little eager. I had to fire her last week for lack of enthusiasm.

"You know the drill."

Her back arched to offer a curvy bubble butt. I prepared to hit a forehand across the target when the phone rang.

"Hey Carver, it's me. Sorry I didn't get back to you sooner. Did you get the pictures? I emailed them about five minutes ago."

"Let me call you back."

The guy had impeccable timing.

"Count."

Unfortunately, there were no cries or pleadings, but, the warmth coming off chastened cheeks made me want to hurt her more.

"Spread them."

"Yes sir."

Her voice quavered. My dick was hard.

I spit on the unprepared asshole, then, shoved my short and wide in to the hilt. The instinct to pull away from anal assault only served to make me harder. As I held her fluffy head down on the desk with one hand, I slapped the side of her face with the other.

Slap.

"Silly slut. Are you going to come in to work without your butt plug again?"

Slap.

"No...Sir!"

Slap.

"Lying bitch. Next time, no spit. You’ll be used bone dry. Got that?"

Her muffled response was loud as I ground into her one last time. All I could hear was the sound of the disk drive whirring. I fished my cock out of the newly widened cave and tucked it away for later. Right now, I wanted to see those pictures.

As the slut of the day slid quietly off the desk, pulled down her skirt, and headed towards her office, I had to give her one last parting shot.

"Don't wipe that lipstick off."

Red Lipstick copyright Nikita 2007

bump

Subtle! I'll take the hint and read your assignment. Thanks for your patience.

Perhaps some others will join in? Hint, hint, hint!

I like it, and it does what you set out to do, but I have a few nits.

1) You should state who is saying what, be it the simple 'he said', 'I said', or 'she said' or something more descriptive. On rereading a few lines, it is obvious who says what, but that sort of thing should be immediately apparent.

2) I'm not sure I'm a fan of the "Slap" appearing on a single line as is. I'm not sure what the technical rules towards... sound effects... are, but when I do see them, they are often *slap* (asterisks on both sides of the word.) Actually, I guess it could work, if it supposed to be the narrator thinking to himself, but like I said, I don't know the precise rules for it.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Razor7826

I like it, and it does what you set out to do, but I have a few nits.

---

Hahaha! Some nits are worthy.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Razor7826

(1) You should state who is saying what, be it the simple 'he said', 'I said', or
'she said' or something more descriptive. On rereading a few lines, it is obvious who says what, but that sort of thing should be immediately apparent.

---

I was debating the use of 'he said, he muttered, he bellowed,' but I wanted to see how it read without it. However, you have a point. There is another way to do it.

Just last night, I used one of Ruby's links to see more examples of POV. Btw, this blog is great!

http://darkerotica.blogspot.com/2005...ems-cures.html

But as I looked down the right hand side of the page, she addressed the above topic. It was a 'diatribe?' against the over use of 'he said, she said,' and gave examples that made sense.

i.e. (These are my examples, not the author's.)

He slammed the book on the desk. "No!"

Chip grabbed the unattended handbag and hesitated. "What do you think you are doing?" It was the principal.

Sharon's coffee cup spilled on the carpet. "Gosh...I'm so...sorry!"

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Razor7826

(2) I'm not sure I'm a fan of the "Slap" appearing on a single line as is. I'm not sure what the technical rules towards... sound effects... are, but when I do see them, they are often *slap* (asterisks on both sides of the word.) Actually, I guess it could work, if it supposed to be the narrator thinking to himself, but like I said, I don't know the precise rules for it.

---

Yeah, Number 2 is a nit, but it is worth mentioning. ~grin~


Thanks for reading it and your feedback.

Hi Nikita and all,

I'm partial to the writings of L K Hamilton when it comes to the first person. I didn't enjoy the style until I read her stuff.

Here's a chapter from one of her books:
http://www.laurellkhamilton.org/Anit...hapterOne.html

Now, back to you, Nikita. You and Razor have both made excellent points.

For me to enjoy first person, I want the story teller to be speaking to me. I'm greedy. I want to know what they were thinking, feeling, seeing, etc. I don't need every "he said" or "she said", yet I don't want to feel cheated on the descriptions either.

Also, because the story teller is telling a story that already happened, even her/his thoughts need to be in the past tense. The only writing allowed in present tenses would be quotes.

Nikita,

I really like this story and your first attempt at tackling writing in the first person is admirable.

Your wicked sense of humor is always delightful and the story title is right on target.

How did you feel when writing this piece?
Is it a tense and POV that you would continue to use?
Did you feel comfortable with it?
Enjoy it?
Something else?

Here are some comments, request, suggestions for the next update of your story:

Quote:

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Red Lipstick

Why hadn't that asshole sent those surveillance pictures?

Add a transition to this next line. What are you feeling that caused you to notice her?

Under my desk, the slut of the day was busily slobbering over my cock.

I grabbed her by the hair to see the smeared red lips before I barked, "Get on the desk."

She was a little eager.

Did you like this or not?

I had to fire her last week for lack of enthusiasm.

You big tease. You fired her? Then what is she doing under your desk? Is this part of the re-interview process?

"You know the drill."

Her back arched to offer a curvy bubble butt. I prepared to hit a forehand across the target when the phone rang.

"Hey Carver, it's me. Sorry I didn't get back to you sooner. Did you get the pictures? I emailed them about five minutes ago."

The guy had impeccable timing. (Moves line here.)

"Let me call you back."

Now give me an action. Do something, feel something. Describe the chick and what she is doing.

"Count."

Unfortunately, there were no cries or pleadings, but, the warmth coming off chastened cheeks made me want to hurt her more. (Nice!)

"Spread them."

"Yes sir."

Her voice quavered. My dick was hard.

What does she do? What is she spreading? How?

I spit on the unprepared asshole, then, shoved my short and wide in to the hilt.

Ouch, ouch, and ouch! Spitting there isn't enough if she isn't lubed, or he isn't lubed either. This could make for a messy and bloody scene. There's nothing wrong with him lubing his cock or her anus before playtime.

The instinct to pull away from anal assault only served to make me harder. As I held her fluffy head down on the desk with one hand, I slapped the side of her face with the other.

Slap.

We don't need the slap. It would work well in third person. Here's it's distracting without more description.

I slapped her, hard. The sound rang through my office.

Or nothing at all is fine, too.

"Silly slut. Are you going to come in to work without your butt plug again?"

Slap.

I had to slap her again to get her to answer me.

"No...Sir!"

Slap.

More than a slap ... add description, feeling, sound, whatever.

"Lying bitch. Next time, no spit. You’ll be used bone dry. Got that?"

I say again, ouch! That wasn't enough lube, she was bone dry inside.

Her muffled response was loud as I ground into her one last time. All I could hear was the sound of the disk drive whirring. I fished my cock out of the newly widened cave and tucked it away for later. Right now, I wanted to see those pictures.

Oooooh, very, very, nice. He's got control and he's a jerk.

After the slut of the day slid quietly off the desk, pulled down her skirt, and headed towards her office, I had to give her one last parting shot.

"Don't wipe that lipstick off."

Red Lipstick copyright Nikita 2007

---

Hi Ruby,

Thanks for taking the time to read and comment. Your questions made me think about what I was doing and why. Below are my responses. I'm digesting your comments and suggestions and will edit some more. :)

Quote:

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How did you feel when writing this piece?

---

It was difficult for me to be inside a man's mind. I drew a blank at first, then, I tried a role play to nail the man's character.

Quote:

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Is it a tense and POV that you would continue to use?

---

Actually, I have used the first person several times before from a female pov. However, you couldn't tell it by reading this piece. I think the gender thing confused me. :dunno:

Quote:

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Did you feel comfortable with it?

---

Yes, I like writing in the first person because I'm writing from inside myself. The male in this piece is not someone I could pull from inside. It took some effort to find him. Once I did, the snatches of dialog came easily.

Quote:

---

Something else?

---

This writing task is something I need to do. I will continue because that is my nature. (read d-e-t-e-r-m-i-n-e-d) :idea:

Miss Determined Nikita,

Thank you for posting your answers in this thread.
I learned a bit more about you, today!

I'm looking forward to reading your updated version
of this story and seeing how you tackle "him".

Write on!

Ruby

Secrets, blackmail, control, that trinity has become my mantra, my way of life. If it weren’t for that rat bastard who took my ex away from me, I would have continued on a path of a complacent and frustrating existence. There was no one to blame but myself.

Meanwhile, under my desk, June, the slut of the day, was busily slobbering over my cock. She was a recent hire, but not until after I had her thoroughly investigated.

I grabbed her by the hair and gazed at the humiliated face. It was the smeared red lips, always, the red lips, that brought back memories of my ex-wife. June was like her too, reserved, and snooty. Their nostrils looked perpetually flared . . . as if they smelled something nasty. Those, I like to take down.

"C'mon. Get on the desk."

I met June at a golf outing hosted by one of our suppliers. She'd lost her job and was passing time hostessing these events for her husband, the vice-president of the company. She was hovering around when I happened to mention to one of my colleagues, that there might be an opening at my firm very soon.

Right away, I could see that June was good at schmoozing. "Would you like another drink, Mr. Carver? I'm on my way to get one for Ward."

"Why thank you. Another ‘old fashioned’ with no cherries, please."

She brought me drinks the rest of the afternoon. Each time she told me more and more, how she needed to get out of the house, do some part time work, and that bunco parties and tennis matches with her lady friends had gotten boring. The details of her prior work experience sounded impressive. At the end of the day, I gave her my card and suggested she come in to interview for the position.

I hired her.

The first day, June arrived dressed for success. She wore a tight Jackie-O stylish suit, silk stockings, and those pointy high-heeled shoes that made her look very tall. However, she got the same orientation that all the other bimbos do. She was assigned to the desk piled high with stacks of paperwork. At the end of each day, the pile was higher than the day before. By Friday, you couldn't see her sitting behind the files.

I couldn't hide my grin. I like to move fast on new sluts and she played right into my hands.

"Here are the office keys. You can come in any time tomorrow and Sunday so you can catch up on that paperwork."

That's when her nostrils flared.

The following Monday morning, she had the balls to come into my office and ask for an assistant. I took my glasses off, put them on my desk slowly, and leaned back in my chair with my arms behind my neck. "Come again? I didn't understand what you said."

She was uncomfortable repeating it. "Sir, I need an assistant. I'm so overwhelmed I can't sleep very well at night. Look at the bags under my eyes."

Sure enough, not only did they look like bags, but more like suitcases.

She continued, "Last weekend, I didn't make it to one of my son's baseball games and ... I missed bunco, too!"

June was in my office bitching for 30 minutes, shifting from one leg to the other in her 4-inch heels.

"Bunco? Isn't that a dice game?" I asked it with a smirk.

"Err...yes, it is."

I raised my voice. "Why should I care that you missed bunco?"

Her nostril action made a return appearance. "Well, I . . ."

"You don't really want to work here do you?" I knew she was in a jam. I put her in it.

"Oh yes, Mr. Carver. I actually need the job.” Her face was flush with embarrassment. "All my credit cards are charged to the max and I don't want my husband to find out."

I rubbed my jaw as if I was seriously considering her plea. "If I get you an assistant, you'll have to take on some other tasks. Do you understand and accept this?"

She nodded her head with relief.

The following Monday, there was a brand spanking new bright eyed brunette in the desk next to hers who was making quick business of completing the paperwork. It seemed to unnerve June, because she asked for permission to have a word with me again.

"What now?"

June was wringing her hands. "What other things can I do for you, Mr. Carver?"

I pulled open the desk drawer and gave her the glossy covered slut handbook. "Go stand in the corner and become very familiar with that manual. There will be a quiz afterwards."

June went home that day a different woman. For several weeks, things seemed to be going well. June had the paperwork under control just as I had her under control. However, I had to fire the bitch last week for lack of enthusiasm. She intercepted blackmail pictures that I had sent to her house after her husband had come home from work. June came crawling back and now, is a little more eager to please, like a well-used office slut should be.

This is my favorite part of the re-interviewing process.

June looked at me with some hesitation. "You know the drill."

Substitution paragraph, the red for the blue.

June went home that day a different woman.

For several weeks, things were going well. She had the paperwork under control just as I had her under control. Every day, she performed the other services as well. In fact, June had fallen so low off her high horse that I set up a camera in my office to record these precious moments. However, breaking her down was too easy and soon, she became boring ... until I introduced the red lipstick to our sessions. Then, I couldn't get enough of her.

I made her wear the smeared red mess on her lips while she worked at her desk. My office door was kept open so I could enjoy watching the other employees walk past making comments and snickering. Soon, the overall quality of her work declined. June arrived late to work 3 days out of the week. Scolding her became an exercise in futility. So, I had to fire the bitch for lack of enthusiasm.

Instead of begging to keep her job, she was relieved. June picked up her things and dropped the tube of lipstick on my desk on her way out.

I anticipated this. That's where the pictures I took came in handy. However, June was tipped off that the blackmail pictures had been sent to her house and intercepted them right before her husband came home from work. The next thing I knew, she came crawling back and now, is a little more eager to please, like a well-used office slut should be.

Now I get to indulge in my favorite part of the re-interviewing process.

She clamored up on the desk, snagging one of her stockings. The short skirt exposed her pantiless butt. The butt plug with the company logo was not in place as it should have been.

I cursed. "Bitch."

June’s bubble butt curved up towards my hand. I prepared to hit a forehand across the target when the phone rang.

"Hey Carver, it's me. Sorry I didn't get back to you sooner. Did you get the pictures? I sent them by courier over an hour ago."

The guy had impeccable timing. "Let me call you back."

Before me was her pussy was wet. I didn't want it, not just yet.

There must be some form of payment and red marks added to the blue ones from yesterday. "Count."

"One...two..."

June's counting started steadily, but, as I increased the pace and intensity, she started to stammer, then whisper. There were no cries or pleadings, but the warmth coming off the chastened cheeks made me want to hurt her more.

My dick was hard. "Get the tube."

Her voice quavered. "Yes sir."

She pulled the lipstick out of her bra, reached back to pull her butt cheeks apart, and applied the greasy red lipstick to her brown wrinkle. I stuck my lipstick-lubed cock in her asshole. I am such a rotten romantic.

I was a little disappointed that the bitch didn't scream as much as last week. Maybe she put a little too much lipstick on it. I made a mental note. By now, June was used to the pounding, but the instinct to pull away from anal assault only served to make me harder. As I held her fluffy head down on the desk with one hand, I slapped the side of her face with the other.

"Silly slut. Are you going to come in to work without your butt plug again?"

The butt plug was one of several acquired in Tokyo when I was finalizing the Cue-ball blackmail operation. When I returned, they were reproduced with the addition of the company logo and were incorporated into the newly developed slut program.

"No...Sir!"

"That's better."

I'm willing to bet that she will be bounding in here tomorrow morning with a two-ton metal butt plug up her ass to make sure her husband doesn't get to see those pictures.

Her muffled response was loud as I ground into her one last time. All I could hear was the sound of the fan whirring overhead. I fished my cock out of the newly widened cave and tucked it away for later. Right now, I wanted to see those pictures.

When June slid quietly off the desk, pulled down her skirt, and headed towards the door, I had to give her one last parting shot.

"Don't wipe that lipstick off."

Red Lipstick copyright Nikita 2007

Great re-write. I like the additional background you added. Just one observation.

Quote:

---

June went home that day a different woman. For several weeks, things seemed to be going well. June had the paperwork under control just as I had her under control. However, I had to fire the bitch last week for lack of enthusiasm. She intercepted blackmail pictures that I had sent to her house after her husband had come home from work. June came crawling back and now, is a little more eager to please, like a well-used office slut should be.

This is my favorite part of the re-interviewing process.

---

I lost the thread a little bit in above paragraph. Maybe a scene where she gets fired. and then him sending the pictures or threatening to send the pictures would help clarify the action. Why does she come back to this office instead of going somewhere else?

LadyC

Good point Lady Chipmunk. I had a problem with that too; just wasn't sure how much more information was needed, if any. Thanks for the observation.

If I get a chance today, I will add a substitution paragraph in a different color, below the one in question. It's a darn shame the editing feature has a time limit.

A time limit?
The editing feature?

Nikita, I feel a thread drift coming on.

Are you doing something other than highlighting and then bolding and/or changing the color of the text?

Is there some secret tool that will make my life easier?

Please share.

PS

I won't be reading this update until later in the week. Please let me know when you are ready for me.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Ruby

A time limit? The editing feature?

The edit key at the bottom of each post has some kind of time limit. After 24 hours you can't edit a post.

Nikita, I feel a thread drift coming on.

I hope not.

Are you doing something other than highlighting and then bolding and/or changing the color of the text?

I don't think so. I did the highlighting and bolding below.

Is there some secret tool that will make my life easier?

God I hope so...If there is I want to get in line for it too.
Please share.

I'll always share with you Ruby. ~where's the snicker smiley?~

PS

I won't be reading this update until later in the week. Please let me know when you are ready for me.

---

Ok... :)

Hi Nikita,

I see what you mean about the edit button.
I thought I was really missing out on something.

* lol *

For your next changes, please don't show us your edits with formatting. Just post the next version and save yourself some time. It will also help us look at it with "fresh eyes".

Keep up the great work,

Ruby

Below is an updated copy of Red Lipstick. I'm mostly happy with it. If someone finds a rough spot, inconsistency, grammar, etc., point it out. That's why I'm here.

This excercise started as an experiment. I wanted to write a short piece from the pov of a nasty male dominant with little to none redeeming qualities. ~insert evil grin here~

The second part of the experiment was to try to tell the story using just dialog. Other authors have managed to pull off a story told in this manner successfully. Well, I couldn't. The pov was entangled with 'almost' descriptions. It just didn't work.

Using the original prose, I 'found' Carver and developed a sketch of June. The scene should feel like 1950s, black and white, and the two people, reminiscent of characters in a Sam Spade story. As far as the cheesy references, forgive me in advance. :) In any case, I hope you enjoy it.

Red Lipstick

Secrets, blackmail, control, that trinity has become my mantra, my way of life. If it weren’t for that rat bastard who took my ex away from me, I would have continued on a path of a complacent and frustrating existence. There was no one to blame but myself.

Meanwhile, under my desk, June, the slut of the day, was busily slobbering over my cock. She was a recent hire, but not until after I had her thoroughly investigated.

I grabbed her by the hair and gazed at the humiliated face. It was the smeared red lips, always, the red lips, that brought back memories of my ex-wife. June was like her too, reserved, and snooty. Their nostrils looked perpetually flared . . . as if they smelled something nasty. Those, I like to take down.

"C'mon. Get on the desk."

I met June at a golf outing hosted by one of our suppliers. She had lost her job and was passing time hostessing these events for her husband, the vice-president of the company. She was hovering around when I happened to mention to one of my colleagues, that there might be an opening at my firm very soon.

Right away, I could see that June was good at schmoozing. "Would you like another drink, Mr. Carver? I'm on my way to get one for Ward."

"Why thank you. Another ‘old fashioned’ with no cherries, please."

She brought me drinks the rest of the afternoon. Each time she told me more and more, how she needed to get out of the house, do some part time work, and that bunco parties and tennis matches with her lady friends had gotten boring. The details of her prior work experience sounded impressive. At the end of the day, I gave her my card and suggested she come in to interview for the position.

I hired her.

The first day, June arrived dressed for success. She wore a tight Jackie-O stylish suit, silk stockings, and those pointy high-heeled shoes that made her look very tall. However, she got the same orientation that all the other bimbos do. She was assigned to the desk piled high with stacks of paperwork. At the end of each day, the pile was higher than the day before. By Friday, you couldn't see her sitting behind the files.

I couldn't hide my grin. I like to move fast on new sluts and she played right into my hands.

"Here are the office keys. You can come in any time tomorrow and Sunday so you can catch up on that paperwork."

That's when her nostrils flared.

The following Monday morning, she had the balls to come into my office and ask for an assistant. I took my glasses off, put them on my desk slowly, and leaned back in my chair with my arms behind my neck. "Come again? I didn't understand what you said."

She was uncomfortable repeating it. "Sir, I need an assistant. I'm so overwhelmed I can't sleep very well at night. Look at the bags under my eyes."

Sure enough, not only did they look like bags, but more like suitcases.

She continued, "Last weekend, I didn't make it to one of my son's baseball games and ... I missed bunco, too!"

June was in my office bitching for 30 minutes. She shifted from one leg to the other in her 4-inch heels.

"Bunco? Isn't that a dice game?" I asked it with a smirk.

"Err...yes, it is."

I raised my voice. "Why should I care that you missed bunco?"

Her nostril action made a return appearance. "Well, I . . ."

"You don't really want to work here do you?" I knew she was in a jam. I put her in it.

"Oh yes, Mr. Carver. I actually need the job.” Her face was flush with embarrassment. "All my credit cards are charged to the max and I don't want my husband to find out."

I rubbed my jaw as if I was seriously considering her plea. "If I get you an assistant, you'll have to take on some other tasks. Do you understand and accept this?"

She nodded her head with relief.

The following Monday, there was a brand spanking new, bright eyed brunette, in the desk next to hers who was making quick business of completing the paperwork. It seemed to unnerve June, because she asked for permission to have a word with me again.

"What now?"

June was wringing her hands. "What other things can I do for you, Mr. Carver?"

I pulled open the desk drawer and gave her the glossy covered slut handbook. "Go stand in the corner and become very familiar with that manual. There will be a quiz afterwards."

June went home that day a different woman.

For several weeks, things were going well. She had the paperwork under control just as I had her under control. Every day, she performed the other services as well. In fact, June had fallen so low off her high horse that I set up a camera in my office to record these precious moments. However, breaking her down was too easy and soon, she became boring ... until I introduced the red lipstick to our sessions. Then, I couldn't get enough of her.

I made her wear the smeared red mess on her lips while she worked at her desk. My office door was kept open so I could enjoy watching the other employees walk past making comments and snickering. Soon, the overall quality of her work declined. June arrived late to work 3 days out of the week. Scolding her became an exercise in futility. So, I had to fire the bitch for lack of enthusiasm.

Instead of begging to keep her job, June was relieved. She picked up her things, dropped the tube of lipstick on my desk, and left.

I anticipated this. That’s when the pictures I took came in handy. However, June was tipped off that the blackmail pictures were on their way to her house and intercepted them right before her husband pulled into the driveway. The next thing I knew, she came crawling back and now, is a little more eager to please, as a well-used office slut should be.

Now I get to indulge in my favorite part of the re-interviewing process.

June looked at me with some hesitation.

"You know the drill," I said.

She clamored up on the desk, snagging one of her stockings. The short skirt exposed her pantiless butt. The butt plug with the company logo was not in place as it should have been.

I cursed. "Bitch."

June’s butt curved up towards my hand. I prepared to hit a forehand across the target when the phone rang.

"Hey Carver, it's me. Sorry I didn't get back to you sooner. Did you get the pictures? I sent them by courier over an hour ago."

The guy had impeccable timing. "Let me call you back."

I examined the target further. In addition to adding new red marks next to yesterday’s blue ones, there will be another form of punishment exacted for the transgression.

"Count."

"One...two…"

June's counting started steadily, but, as the pace and intensity increased, she stammered, and then whispered. There were no cries or pleadings, but the warmth coming off the chastened cheeks made me want to hurt her more.

My dick was hard. "Get the tube."

Her voice quavered. "Yes sir."

She pulled it out of her bra, reached back to pull her butt cheeks apart, and applied the greasy red lipstick to her brown wrinkle. I stuck my cock in her lipstick-lubed asshole. I am such a rotten romantic.

I was a little disappointed that the bitch didn't scream as much as last week. Maybe she put a little too much lipstick on it. I made a mental note. By now, June was used to the pounding, but the instinct to pull away from anal assault only served to make me harder. As I held her fluffy head down on the desk with one hand, I slapped the side of her face with the other.

"Silly slut. Are you going to come in to work without your butt plug again?"

The butt plug was one of several acquired in Tokyo when I was finalizing the Cue-ball blackmail operation. They plugs were reproduced with the addition of the company logo and incorporated into the newly developed slut program.

"No...Sir!"

"That's better."

I'm willing to bet that she will be bounding in here tomorrow morning with a two-ton metal butt plug up her ass to make sure her husband doesn't get to see those pictures.

Her muffled response was loud as I ground into her one last time. All I could hear was the sound of the fan whirring overhead. I fished my cock out of the newly widened cave and tucked it away for later. Right now, I wanted to see those pictures.

After June slid quietly off the desk, pulled down her skirt, and headed towards the door, I had to give her one last parting shot.

"Don't wipe that lipstick off."

Red Lipstick copyright Nikita 2007

Disclaimer

This is fiction. Any resemblance to anything or anyone living or dead is purely coincidental. Finally, always use lubrication. If in doubt, use more lubrication.

I just read your story and how it developed. I like the nasty feeling this story has. Surprisingly, it is not easy to write a good story using crude and nasty words like that. Congratualitions on a job well done.

I think I'm a little late to comment on the details but here is something that occured to me: Length.
The second and third (more detailed) versions of your story seem to have the wrong length. They introduce too much backstory without fleshing it out fully. I think the first version had a better balance (very short<=>no information whatsoever).

I'm not recommending that you change it (the story works and that is what counts) but maybe you should consider how much "baggage" you put into your story the next time. If you give information to your readers, the bastards start to think. And once they do, they want a detailed background. Sometimes (especially for short stories of course) it is better not to explain some facts at all. Just present them.


Satan_Klaus

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Originally Posted by Satan_Klaus

I just read your story and how it developed. I like the nasty feeling this story has. Surprisingly, it is not easy to write a good story using crude and nasty words like that. Congratualitions on a job well done.

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Thank you. Thank you very much! :)

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Originally Posted by Satan_Klaus

I think I'm a little late to comment on the details but here is something that occured to me: Length.
The second and third (more detailed) versions of your story seem to have the wrong length. They introduce too much backstory without fleshing it out fully. I think the first version had a better balance (very short<=>no information whatsoever).

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Yes, I see what you mean. It doesn't mean agree, but I see.

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Originally Posted by Satan_Klaus

I'm not recommending that you change it (the story works and that is what counts) but maybe you should consider how much "baggage" you put into your story the next time. If you give information to your readers, the bastards start to think.

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ROFL ~snort~ ROFLMAO!!! Thinking bastards...what a dangerous combination! LOL

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Originally Posted by Satan_Klaus

And once they do, they want a detailed background. Sometimes (especially for short stories of course) it is better not to explain some facts at all. Just present them. Satan_Klaus

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Great point and it is a conundrum. How much information do you give using as few words as possible, and still have a story that pulls the reader in and retains their interest? For me, both those goals are hard to balance, but at the end of the day, I'd rather they want to read more than not finish the story at all.

Thank you for your feedback Satan. All good points to put into the think tank.

Hi Nikita,

The progression of this little tale is delightful.

I think you've captured much of the imagery you were seeking. He's a hard-ass, she's desperate, what a fine pair they make. It reads a bit like the old pulp fiction detective stories, and I'm picturing some of those bad boys with their "sluts of the day" at their desk.

Mmmmm. Yummy stuff!

The disclaimer is a delight.

As for punctuation, this story needs a few more commas, mostly in the quotation areas. Some samples are below:

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Her nostril action made a return appearance. "Well, I . . ."

"You don't really want to work here, do you?"

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"Yes, sir."

"Silly, slut."

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Those pesky dot-dot-dots need to be the same throughout. Either use spaces between them, or don't.

What else? The bits about the lipstick, why he likes it and "the rotten romantic" are just priceless!

You are ready for the next assignment!

Write on,

Ruby
:rose: