Trish86's First assignment

[Dragon's muse]

Trish,

Welcome to the block. For your first assignment, craft a short story/scene/chapter that has the following opening.

Christine was nervous. She wasn't quite sure how she had gotten herself into this; she was even less sure how she was going to get herself out of it.

[trish86]

Thank you ma'am,

I'm hard at work on my assignment and should have something soon.

-Trish

[Dragon's muse]

Please skip the ma'am. Take your time. i know you will do well.

[trish86]

Christine was nervous. She wasn't quite sure how she had gotten herself into this; she was even less sure how she was going to get herself out of it.

The game had gone well at first, but Christine had grown careless and overconfident. By the fifteenth move, she had fallen two pawns down, and now a knight fork threatened her king and queen. Christine regretted ever agreeing to play chess with Kevin.

“Your move dear,” Kevin reminded.

Christine sighed and moved her king out of check. Kevin accepted her sacrifice, taking her queen with his knight. She glanced at the clock the clock on the wall.

“It’s getting late,” she suggested. “Why don’t we quit here.”

“Afraid not dear,” answered Kevin. “We finish what we start.”

“Meanie,” Christine retorted.

“You have no idea,” Kevin assured her.

Christine captured his knight with her next move, a small consolation for the loss of her queen. Kevin moved a rook forward, pressing his attack. She advanced a pawn by one space, blocking him for the moment, but still she felt vulnerable. Sweat covered her forehead as she tried to focus on the board.

A single bead of sweat rolled down Christine’s cheek. It dripped onto her naked breast, a reminder of how truly vulnerable she was. Kevin had required her to strip before the game began; her clothes lay in a neatly folded stack on the floor.

Kevin withdrew his rook, but advanced another piece, systematically probing Christine’s defenses. Christine eyed the chessboard warily, but was equally apprehensive about the sturdy riding crop that lay on the table in front of her. The crop served as a reminder of the consequences she had agreed to if she lost. Her confidence faded. Should she just resign and get it over with?

“I’m looking forward to playing with you afterwards dear,” Kevin gloated. “If you think the crop stings your ass, just wait until we try it on your tender places.”

“Maybe we should shove it up your butt instead,” she snapped.

“If I were in your position, I would hold my tongue,” he cautioned. “You’re three moves from checkmate, and you might regret making me angry when my crop is whacking your poor titties.”

“Then play,” Christine typed. “It’s already after five.”

Kevin renewed the attack with his rook.

“Check."

Christine’s pulse quickened as she realized the full extent of her peril. She shifted nervously in her seat, but only so far as the steel shackle encircling her ankle would allow her. The clock read 5:10 now. Only a few minutes left.

Suddenly, Christine’s spirits lifted as she discovered a ray of hope. From the far side of the board, she moved her bishop diagonally to capture the threatening rook.

“Nice move,” admitted Kevin. “Guess I didn’t see that.”

Now it was Christine’s turn to take the initiative. She advanced her pieces as the minutes slowly ticked away. Kevin tried to build a pawn wall in front of his castled king, but it only delayed her. She smiled when she finally moved a pawn into Kevin’s last row.

“Got my queen back,” Christine declared triumphantly. “And that makes checkmate.”

“It does indeed,” conceded Kevin. “Nice play.”

Christine looked at the clock at the lower right corner of the computer screen, which was now her greatest peril. It read 5:19pm.

“Gimme the combination,” she typed.

“Say ‘pretty please’,” Kevin teased in response.

“I won dammit,” Christine typed back. “He’ll be home any minute. Give me the damn combo.”

One by one, the three precious numbers appeared on Christine’s computer screen: 17-24-5.

Christine sprang into action. Leaning forward, she took hold of the small combination padlock that held the two halves of the steel shackle in place around her ankle. She twisted the dial in two full clockwise circles to 17, spun it back counterclockwise to 24, and finally a half-turn clockwise until it came to rest at 5. A gentle tug released the shackle and freed her ankle.

Just then, Christine heard the rumble of a Toyota Camry pulling into the driveway. A jolt of adrenaline spurred her on.

“Hubby’s home, Gotta run, love ya!” Christine typed before closing her browser.

Christine tossed the riding crop, padlock and shackles into a drawer, and hurriedly pulled on her panties. By the time she heard the car door slam, she was fastening her bra. She fished straightening the last button of her blouse just at the door opened.

“Hey sweetie,” Christine purred to her husband as walked through the door. “Have a good day?”

“Yep,” her husband answered, giving her a peck on the cheek. “You’re sweaty.”

“I was out working in the garden,” Christine answered.

“It is kind of hot out there,” hubby agreed, “but I think it’s cooled down enough to go for a jog before dinner.”

“OK honey,” Christine replied. “You go relax and I’ll get started with making dinner.”

Ten minutes later, with hubby out the door, Christine reopened her browser.

“Ya still there honey?” she typed.

“Did you pull it together in time?” Kevin queried.

“Yep, but it was a close one.”

“Mmmmm … I’ll Fedex you another padlock on Monday, so we can play again next week.”

“You’re becoming Diebold’s best customer. Tell the truth now, you let me win, didn’t you?”

“Maybe … The Master never tells.”

“You may not be a Chess Master, but you’re my Master honey.”

“Awwww, that’s sweet darlin’. You know you’re going to lose eventually. Whatcha gonna do when hubby walks in on you?”

Christine smiled nervously. She wasn't quite sure how she had gotten herself out of things today; she was even less sure how she was going to get herself out of it in the future.

[Dragon's muse]

Fantastic! i love it. Nice plot twist. i really like the bit of sass about putting the riding crop in his butt. And the echoing of the opening in the closing was first rate. And precious few nits. You are going to destroy Mr. Dean's reputation as a bastard and my own reputation as a grammar nazi. i will get your next assignment up today or tomorrow. This is worthy of submission on the main story page.

Christine was nervous. She wasn't quite sure how she had gotten herself into this; she was even less sure how she was going to get herself out of it.

The game had gone well at first, but Christine had grown careless and overconfident. By the fifteenth move, she had fallen two pawns down, and now a knight fork threatened her king and queen. Christine regretted ever agreeing to play chess with Kevin.

“Your move dear,” Kevin reminded.

Christine sighed and moved her king out of check. Kevin accepted her sacrifice, taking her queen with his knight. She glanced at the clock the clock on the wall.

“It’s getting late,” she suggested. “Why don’t we quit here.”

“Afraid not dear,” answered Kevin. “We finish what we start.”

“Meanie,” Christine retorted.

“You have no idea,” Kevin assured her.

Christine captured his knight with her next move, a small consolation for the loss of her queen. Kevin moved a rook forward, pressing his attack. She advanced a pawn by one space, blocking him for the moment, but still she felt vulnerable. Sweat covered her forehead as she tried to focus on the board.

A single bead of sweat rolled down Christine’s cheek. It dripped onto her naked breast, a reminder of how truly vulnerable she was. Kevin had required her to strip before the game began; her clothes lay in a neatly folded stack on the floor.

Kevin withdrew his rook, but advanced another piece, systematically probing Christine’s defenses. Christine eyed the chessboard warily, but was equally apprehensive about the sturdy riding crop that lay on the table in front of her. The crop served as a reminder of the consequences she had agreed to if she lost. Her confidence faded. Should she just resign and get it over with?

“I’m looking forward to playing with you afterwards dear,” Kevin gloated. “If you think the crop stings your ass, just wait until we try it on your tender places.”

“Maybe we should shove it up your butt instead,” she snapped.

“If I were in your position, I would hold my tongue,” he cautioned. “You’re three moves from checkmate, and you might regret making me angry when my crop is whacking your poor titties.”

“Then play,” Christine typed. “It’s already after five.”

Kevin renewed the attack with his rook.

“Check."

Christine’s pulse quickened as she realized the full extent of her peril. She shifted nervously in her seat, but only so far as the steel shackle encircling her ankle would allow her. The clock read 5:10 now. Only a few minutes left.

Suddenly, (delete, sort of breaks up the flow) Christine’s spirits lifted as she discovered a ray of hope. From the far side of the board, she moved her bishop diagonally to capture the threatening rook.

“Nice move,” admitted Kevin. “Guess I didn’t see that.”

Now it was Christine’s turn to take the initiative. She advanced her pieces as the minutes slowly ticked away. Kevin tried to build a pawn wall in front of his castled king, but it only delayed her. She smiled when she finally moved a pawn into Kevin’s last row.

“Got my queen back,” Christine declared triumphantly. “And that makes checkmate.”

“It does indeed,” conceded Kevin. “Nice play.”

Christine looked at the clock at the lower right corner of the computer screen, which was now her greatest peril. It read 5:19pm.

“Gimme the combination,” she typed.

“Say ‘pretty please’,” Kevin teased in response.

“I won dammit,” Christine typed back. “He’ll be home any minute. Give me the damn combo.”

One by one, the three precious numbers appeared on Christine’s computer screen: 17-24-5.

Christine sprang into action. Leaning forward, she took hold of the small combination padlock that held the two halves of the steel shackle in place around her ankle. She twisted the dial in two full clockwise circles to 17, spun it back counterclockwise to 24, and finally a half-turn clockwise until it came to rest at 5. A gentle tug released the shackle and freed her ankle.

Just then, Christine heard the rumble of a Toyota Camry pulling into the driveway. A jolt of adrenaline spurred her on. I would move the last part of the preceeding paragraph to the opening of this paragraph with a bit of rewording. A gentle tug released the shackle and free her ankle, as Christing heard the rumble of a Toyota Camry pulling into the driveway.“Hubby’s home, Gotta run, love ya!” Christine typed before closing her browser.

Christine tossed the riding crop, padlock and shackles into a drawer, and hurriedly pulled on her panties. By the time she heard the car door slam, she was fastening her bra. She fished straightening the last button of her blouse just at the door opened.

“Hey sweetie,” Christine purred to her husband as walked through the door. “Have a good day?”

“Yep,” her husband answered, giving her a peck on the cheek. “You’re sweaty.”

“I was out working in the garden,” Christine answered.

“It is kind of hot out there,” hubby agreed, “but I think it’s cooled down enough to go for a jog before dinner.”

“OK honey,” Christine replied. “You go relax and I’ll get started with making dinner.”

Ten minutes later, with hubby out the door, Christine reopened her browser.

“Ya still there honey?” she typed.

“Did you pull it together in time?” Kevin queried.

“Yep, but it was a close one.”

“Mmmmm … I’ll Fedex you another padlock on Monday, so we can play again next week.”

“You’re becoming Diebold’s best customer. Tell the truth now, you let me win, didn’t you?”

“Maybe … The Master never tells.”

“You may not be a Chess Master, but you’re my Master honey.”

“Awwww, that’s sweet darlin’. You know you’re going to lose eventually. Whatcha gonna do when hubby walks in on you?”

Christine smiled nervously. She wasn't quite sure how she had gotten herself out of things today; she was even less sure how she was going to get herself out of it in the future.

[H Dean]

Wow, that's a pretty good story; not what I expected. There were a couple of minor mistakes, like repeating "the clock" in the same sentence. That's something I doubt will happen if you get a proper chance to edit. I think I spotted one other mistake, but I don't have much to gripe about.

I generally have a lot of comments regarding style, but I didn't find anything that I would change. Really, it was executed well. Keep this up and you will ruin my reputation as a bastard.

Good job.

[H Dean]

Damn, Muse, that's all? I thought sure you would find something else to gripe at. I mean, we can't both find (shudder) so few things to bitch about.

[Dragon's muse]

Mr. Dean,

i know, i think the world just shifted on it's axis. Frightening.

[H Dean]

I'm scared. Hold me.

[Dragon's muse]

Hmmm, do you always have that bulge in your trousers when you are scared?
Never mind, *cradling Mr. Dean to my perky, petite breasts.*

[H Dean]

Works every time!

[trish86]

Rose, H Dean,

Thanks for the kind comments. I was trying to do something a little unexpected. I wanted to create a predicament that would gradually be revealed to be worse and worse, as the story progressed.

I agree with grammar and proofreading tweeks that you've caught.

One question I had was on the use of quotations in dialogue. I tend to use a lot of dialogue in my stories, because it let's the characters reveal their thoughts without the narrator having to explain them. But it also creates the potential for a lot of "....," he said. "....," she said, which can be awkward. I noticed that in one of the posts below Dragon's Muse cautioned about too much of that. Sometime I'd like to get your opinions about the ways to handle long dialogue in stories.

Also, you mentioned maybe submitting it on the main stories page. I think I found the place for submitting stories, do I just go there and enter the information to submit it?

Thanks again for the quick feedback!

-Trish

[H Dean]

Just upload the story to the submission page, Set he codes and away you go. It's pretty explanatory. I would suggest lengthening the story a bit. That's the nice thing about the story site, as opposed to the Block - you can submit long stories there.

Dialogue -
Well, I hate the "he said"/ "she said" manner that so many stories get subjected to. Consequently I end up finding lots of different ways to say "he said"/"she said".

For instance, I use terms like "he issued", "he exclaimed", "he yelled", etc. I do this all over any first draft where there is a lot of dialogue. Then I go back and edit it. Inevitably, those things are over done and make the story sound ridiculous - 'cause there are way too many. So, I end up making a few more "he said"/"she said" sentences. I also break it up with all my different modifications of "he said"/"she said". The edit ends up finding a good flow and mix of the "said" situation.

So, my advice is to mix up the various ways you say it, add modifiers and various things that might sound stupid. Then edit it and make it less stupid. Then edit again and make it not stupid.

Muse, get your butt over here and give her your advice. Also, show me your tits.

[Dragon's muse]

OK, Mr. Dean, i will show you my tits, but only if you promise not to stare.

Regarding the "he said/she said" conundrum.

i use lots of dialogue, in my non erotic writing. When you only have two characters, many times you can avoid the tags entirely. Just sprinkle them in, occasionally to make sure the reader can keep track of the order of the dialogue. To further clarify, you can add an "address tag" within the quote.

"Kevin, please give me the combination."

When action is involved with the quote a tag can often be deleted,

"Yep," he kissed her cheek, "You're sweaty."

just my tuppence

[Dragon's muse]

Also, regarding the use of synonyms for "said". One school of thought is that, "he said" is a kind of disappearing phrase. People tend to read it like punctuation. Overuse of the synonyms can tend to break up the flow, particularly in emotionally intensive dialogue.

again, your mileage may vary.

[Rhabbi]

Very nice story, and well written. About time a good writer came along.

I do have one thing that is bothering me, in chess a sacrifice is when you place a piece in jeopardy in order to set up an attack. It is not losing your queen to a knight fork. Minor thing, but it bugged me, and it may have just stabilized Dean and muse's world.

[Dragon's muse]

Thank you Rhabbi. Not a chess player so i could not pick up on that one.

[Rhabbi]

Thank you Rhabbi. Not a chess player so i could not pick up on that one.

I gathered that, nor is Dean apparently.






Nice titties by the way.

[H Dean]

Actually, I am a chess player - used to be. The last time I played chess it was to teach my girl how to play. That was about a year ago. I've an old hand carved chinese chess set. It made for some annoying specialty names for pieces. I can't remember them all but I did get this: Knight=horsey, guy Bishop=Pointy top or pointy head guy, Pawn=little bald chinese guy, Rook=the building guy and how can a building move, I don't understand that - fine, he can move but that's just stupid.


She also had some trouble with certain aspects of the game. Like "How come the queen is more powerful than a king? The king should be able to cut off people's heads" and "How come there is no Pope but two Bishops?" and "A horse can't jump over people like that. That's just stupid".

I only got the board out that one time. I am sure you understand why. So, really, the last time I got to play a real game of chess was about 15 years ago. I love the game, but don't get much chance to play.

[H Dean]

I've a headache after remembering that. Show me those tits again, willya?

[Dragon's muse]

*sigh* All right, but only because you have a 9 inch tongue and can breathe through your ears.

*opening my shirt and giving my tassels a quick twirl.*

[trish86]

Thanks for the hints on dialogue tags. There probably isn't a perfect solution to them. They kind of have to be there so the reader knows who's talking, but they can really break up the rhythm. I like H Dean's suggestion of just edited them so they sound less stupid. *s*

I will defer to Rhabbi on whether 'sacrifice' was the right term. I'm not much of a chess player, but I know the basic rules (don't ask me about 'en passant' or whatever). There's something very sexy in a D/s sense about chess, because unlike almost every other game there's no spinner or dice or cards to draw. Whatever happens to one in the course of the game, one does to themselves - can't use bad luck as an excuse. Also lots of probing and thrusting and such *s*

I don't play much, but I do remember the sense of accomplishment I felt as a 9th grader when I beat my dad for the first time, with him playing his best.

So thanks.

And by the way, how come nobody wants to see MY tits? *pout*

-Trish

[Dragon's muse]

Trust me, Mr. Dean wants to see any tits that present themselves. Give him a good flash of the headlights, maybe even on high-beams

[H Dean]

Trish, you are only on Level 1. WHen you get to Level 2 you have to walk around topless for the entire duration.

In Level 3 we fit you with nipple piercings, attach a leash and teach you to heel properly.

In Level 4 we give you the freedom to do as you please. However, on graduation you are fitted with a large tailed plug and lash you with a crop.

For your first published story you get thoroughly beaten about the head and shoulders with large words stylistic gripes. We also shave your head and call you Dr Evil.