Razor's potential Fourth Assignment?

[Razor7826]

I'm still pondering what I should do to fix my third assignment (The Police Report/Higgs Commission), but as my profile page on the library shows, I've been writing plenty of other stories and chapters without the guidance or prompts from the Writer's Block.

I have another story I've been editing over the last few days. Would there be any objections if I posted it here as an assignment before I submit it to the Library side?

[Razor7826]

-----Well, here it is. I'm rather proud of it, though I know it isn't without its flaws. I still need to work on dialog descriptions, and there is a bit too much blocking of actions and movement in my scenes; as a result, I have to spend too much time describing meaningless actions instead of what matters.


------A subby male for the first time in one of my stories. Mostly embarrassment, and no real sex involved.



Institute Play
By Razor7826

“What the hell?” I yelled as I stumbled backwards into the chair, shocked that a woman so tiny could kicked me in the shin so hard.

My boss, head of the Math department at Serenity Falls High School, stood in front of me, her right hand on her hip between her black skirt and white blouse. “I’m dead serious when I say that you have to take care of your own class. You can’t come to the department whenever a student acts up.”

“I’ve tried everything, but…”

She lifted her foot and slammed her heel down onto my right foot.

“Ah!” I yelped.

“Like I said, take care of it on your own.” She glared down into my eyes through her rimless glasses before lifting her heel off of my toes, allowing blood to rush back into my extremities. “If I hear anything about your class getting out of control again, you’re finished. Understand, Brian?”

I grabbed my foot in pain. “Okay, okay, I’ll crack down on my students.” I retreated to my classroom and readied my papers for the next day.


All through grading, my commute, and nightly traditions, I couldn’t stop thinking about Miss Reynolds. I never really talked to her while she was just a coworker, but she became department head after her first year of teaching, over coworkers that had already made tenure like myself. Now, two months into her second year, I was finally getting to know her; she was every bit as big a bitch as my friends made her out to be.

She had transgressed her boundaries, and I hated her for it, but there was no way I was going to let others know that I was assaulted by a four-foot-eleven white woman. I thought I could keep my class under control and evade the wrath of Gertrude Reynolds.

I was wrong.

-----

The following day of class went even worse than the prior, but I tried my best to handle the crises one by one. First period brought an unusually surly Michael Wilkin. He tried to push me when I told him he would not be allowed to play Gameboy during class. Security discovered three empty bottles of Dayquil in his backpack. Second and third periods were managed with the mere threat of referrals, but even that nuclear option failed when it came to sixth period.

Normally, the Young twins sit in the back of the classroom and quietly pass notes to each other, but they spent the entire day whispering to the boys in front of them, slowly escalating until their voices could be heard across the entire classroom.

“Kim, Laura, please be quiet while I’m talking,” I commanded.

They smiled and ignored me and got louder and louder until I had to scream to get my message across. They both shut up, but a thirty seconds later Gertrude poked her head into the room.

Her blue eyes locked on to me from behind the dangling strands of her blonde hair. “Is everything under control here?” she asked.

“Yes, everything’s fine,” I responded nervously, memories of her intimidating tactics fresh in my mind.

“It doesn’t sound fine. Stop by my office after school.”

The classroom erupted in mocking taunts, my students having picked up that I was in trouble. Blood rushed to my face, and I retreated to my desk in silence, brooding as my class worked on their homework for the rest of the period.

What had motivated her to act so brazen in front of my students? Teachers are supposed to show solidarity with each other, not help turn students against the faculty. I’d never felt so embarrassed in my life.

The day ended. I spent twenty minutes grading homework before walking through the deserted halls to Gertrude’s office. The door was open.

“Close the door,” she commanded from behind her office desk, her eyes momentarily diverted from the stack of papers in front of her.

I complied.

“Why are you late?”

“I’m not late.”

“Yes, you are. I told you to come here after the school day ended, which was over twenty minutes ago.”

“I…”

She rose from her desk and threw her marker at me, dotting my shirt with red ink. “No excuses! You’re late, and you have to make amends for it.”

“What is your problem? You won’t make an effective department chair if you act like that.”

“Don’t tell me how to do my job, you spineless worm. You can’t even keep your classes under control.”

I stood from my chair and looked down at her, trying to use my physical superiority despite knowing that I would never hit a woman. “I didn’t ask to teach basic algebra. I came here to teach calculus to students that actually wanted to learn, not a bunch of inevitable dropouts.”

She reached forward and clenched my balls in her hands. “Don’t talk back to me. I’m your boss, remember?”

I could do nothing but stammer out a meager response. “Y… yes.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Her falcon-like grasp hurt my balls and spurred me to do as she wanted, lest I forever lose my boys. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” She unclenched her claws. “Now kneel.”

“What?” I asked, not believing my ears.

Her she reached to my crotch again and gave a quick squeeze. “Don’t make me ask twice.”

I instinctively collapsed to my knees and caressed with my balls with my hands.

Gertrude walked to the office door and locked it shut.

“What are you doing?” I asked, the blood rushing from my face, fearful of what the tiny little demoness had in store for me.

“Brian, can I ask you something?” she asked, her voice slowing down, making her sound almost sincere.

“Sure.”

“How on Earth did you manage to survive as a teacher this long?

Never before had I been so cruelly stripped of what I once took pride in. I tried to defend myself, “I already told you…”

She pinched my left ear between her thumb and ring finger, digging her nails into my skin. “Stop lying to yourself, worm. Whatever skill you once had is gone. You’re worthless as a teacher, and it is making me look bad.”

My heart began to race, a mixture of fear and anger flooding my systems. She was crossing a line that nobody had ever crossed before, dragging me into uncharted territory. “Nobody cares about what you…”

A sudden slap across my face silenced me instantly. “No. No more words from you.”

I froze, unable to push myself to resist her demands.

“Good. For once you listen. Now pull down your pants.”

“Wha, what?”

She dug her nails deeper into my ear.

“Alright, alright.”

She slapped me again. “I said no more words.”

I wanted to plead, to ask why she was doing to this to me, what I could do to make it stop, but I didn’t. I slipped the silver pin out of my buckle and unfastened the zipper and button. My pants slid down to my ankles, revealing my solid-blue boxers.

“Good. Now, close your eyes, lie on your stomach, hands at your sides.”

I complied.

“Now, this might be cold.” She slid something cold and thin into my asshole.

I squirmed beneath the pressure and yelled as it entered my rectum. “What the hell is that?”

She ignored my protests and slid it in the rest of the way. “A reminder, you could say. So you remember to do your job well. You’re excused.”

My insides hurt more as I struggled to my feet; whatever she had shoved in my ass had begun poking my bowels. “What did you put in me?”

“That’s a surprise,” she laughed, “for whenever you can poop it out. Now get the hell out of my office. I have grading to do.”

My week would have been a lot more pleasant if I could have pooped it out, but hours on the toilet produced nothing but what looked like blood. Panicked, I headed for the emergency room.

“What the hell is that?” the doctor asked as he stared at the x-ray of my insides.

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly.

“Well, I should be able to get it out. Why don’t you go ahead and lay on your stomach.”

From my anus, he pulled the same red grading marker that Gertrude threw at me when our meeting began. “How did this get up there?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I lied, my face turning red with shame. What I thought was blood was just grading ink, a sad reflection of my own failure as a teacher.

I pulled my pants up and gathered my belongings. However, before I was out the door, the doctor asked, “Do you want the pen back?”

-------

I never told anyone what Miss Reynolds did to me that day. What kept me silent, I can’t say. Was it fear for my job? Shame of my abuse? Or, the fact that nobody would believe that tiny Gertrude Reynolds could do something so horrible?

My class doesn’t get away with the crap that they used to, that’s for sure. I crack down on the slightest tests against my authority. I will bend my students to my will, lest Miss Reynolds bend me over to hers.

Copyright Razor7826

[Mad Lews]

Not bad Razor,
There are a few technical glitches but not many, I'll go over them if you want. The story is interesting and rather complete, which is something you've improved at. I'd wonder what the difference is between a subby male, and a male acting submissive? Is it only a question of circumstance or does attitude play a larger role. In any event this is a story with a very real feel to it.
Ya done good.

Mad

[Razor7826]

Thank you for your kind words. Yes, I can feel myself getting better at writing complete stories; both this one and 'Motherly Love' are both short but complete, and probably two of my best stories.

Hmm, difference between acting submissive and actually being a sub. I think the difference between the two is that they'd "do it again" if given the chance. The male in this story definitely has a submissive side to him, or he wouldn't let the tiny white woman push him around. However, that aspect is rather limited, as he certainly didn't like the experience and has no intentions of letting it happen to him again.

[Razor7826]

Oh, and I would appreciate you going over the technical problems, as I will probably submit this to the Library. However, do you think that it belongs there? I've never submitted a story that lacked genuine 'sex', and while this certainly has BDSM content, I'm not sure if readers would appreciate it.

[H Dean]

I just went over this travesty of a story and could only find three things I would change.

First - when she got off of his toes you indicated blood rushing to his extremities. Um, his blood ran back to his arms and fingers too? Try another description so it works better. Maybe something like "pain filled digits" or something.

The next thing was "students that" and it should be "students who", if I am not mistaken.

The last thing was "You’re worthless as a teacher, and it is making me look bad.” Considering the previous contractions the "it is" doesn't feel natural.

Otherwise, as Mad and Lews have said, this is a good piece.

As for publishing it in the library, it is a sad day when a piece of erotic fiction requires sex. Sex is not a requirement for BDSM, nor this a sex site. It is a site for erotic fiction with a BDSM twist. I say damn the torpedoes and full speed ahead. Ignore the asswipes who say you need sex and pay attention to only those who can appreciate a well-written tale.

By the way, when you first got here I was waiting for you to cross the line. You kept coming up a bit short in your offerings and I got a bit frustrated with waiting. You were just one step shy of finding what you needed to be quite good. You crossed that line quite well, snatching the stone from my hands with the dexterity of a bald headed white kid posing as a Chinaman. Or, as Lews said, ya done good.

Now, gimme back my rock!

[Razor7826]

Thank you. I was a bit dismayed when you called it a 'travesty of a story', though I guess you were being... sarcastic? Not sure if that is the way to describe it.

Some of my Level Three assignments were rather bad, mostly due to pacing issues. Short works like this are easy, but my longer ones tend to fall apart. Do either of you have any advice with regards to pacing?

[H Dean]

I can't be completely nice about things, Razor. I gotta be a bit of a dick.

As for advice on pacing, I can only tell you how I go about creating longer pieces, giving you my "creative" process. Most assuredly, it rivals Mad's but is probably not as good as Lews'.

My first bit of advice would be to know your destination. The other main bit is to write it for a particular audience, keeping in mind there will be another audience reading the tale, as well.

The other bit of advice is to edit. I can tell you that, while many of my tales start out sparse, the editing fleshes them out a lot. One of my stories was originally about 5 chapters long. It ended up with around 12 chapters after edits. See, while you are writing you will tend to want to get to the goal line. So, edit and edit and edit and watch your tale flesh out the way you want to.

Another thing you may want to do is to stretch your boundaries or to fix what someone else did wrong. After writing average stories that were within my comfort zone I decided to step out into traffic and try my luck. Well, after doing so my writing improved so dramatically that I actually like reading my writing. Another thing you may want to try is to find a genre that has been done poorly. Step into that genre and do it right. I can tell you that doing these things made me pay better attention to what I was writing and helped me improved dramatically.

[Mad Lews]

Thank you. I was a bit dismayed when you called it a 'travesty of a story', though I guess you were being... sarcastic? Not sure if that is the way to describe it.

Some of my Level Three assignments were rather bad, mostly due to pacing issues. Short works like this are easy, but my longer ones tend to fall apart. Do either of you have any advice with regards to pacing?

Hi Razor,

Pay no attention to Dean on this point. Real writers inevitably find editing removes about a third of what you originally wrote. For most of us it's a winnowing process. Leave it to Mr. H to use it for story inflation.

When you start the story know how it will end, true, but be prepared for detours. Write until the path becomes cloudy then start a new chapter. Use real and/or fake life for inspiration.
Case in point that assignment you were bogged down on.

First you need to strip away the unnecessary details. then you need to come up with a plot/destination. Figure how to get from beginning to end and what twists you wish to put into the shortest route. Now on that particular assignment the beginning was the ending and the twist needed to make the two very different. That part of the assignment you pulled off. It was getting from A to B that needed help.
You could do that well but not in 2000 words. You needed to flesh it out with a few more significant characters, (and get rid of those that don't impact the story your telling) some exposition and a running inner dialog of the narrator as he follows a path that changes that opening into a different closing.
I really don't see that happening in less than three 3000 word chapters and that would be a bare bones approach. You could easily do 5 or more.
If you need some inspiration sit your butt down and watch some CSI reruns or maybe old "Law and Orders".
If you'd rather skip it let me know. I'll come up with something really challenging.

Yours
Lews and Mad

[Razor7826]

If you're referring to the bank shooting story, then yes, I'd rather skip it; you are describing something far beyond the scope that I am interested in at this time.

[Mad Lews]

OK I went to town, you can take them or leave them some are a matter of tone or taste.

-----Well, here it is. I'm rather proud of it, though I know it isn't without its flaws. I still need to work on dialog descriptions, and there is a bit too much blocking of actions and movement in my scenes; as a result, I have to spend too much time describing meaningless actions instead of what matters.


------A subby male for the first time in one of my stories. Mostly embarrassment, and no real sex involved.



Institute Play
By Razor7826

“What the hell?” I yelled as I stumbled backwards into the chair, shocked that a woman so tiny could kick(ed) me in the shin so hard.

My boss,the head of the Math department at Serenity Falls High School, stood in front of me( , her right hand (placed or resting) on her hip between her black skirt and white blouse.
new paragraph “I’m dead serious when I say that you have to take care of your own class. You can’t come to the department whenever a student acts up.”

“I’ve tried everything, but…”

She lifted her foot and slammed her heel down onto my right foot.

“Ah!” I yelped.

“Like I said, take care of it on your own.” She glared down into my eyes through her rimless glasses before lifting her heel off of ( -drop of) my toes, (what Dean said).
New paragraph) “If I hear anything about your class getting out of control again, you’re finished. Understand, Brian?”

I grabbed my foot in pain. “Okay, okay, I’ll crack down on my students.” I retreated to my classroom and readied my papers for the next day.


All through grading, my commute, and nightly traditions, (this may be foriegn to your readers and is an awkward sentence anyway; tighten and revise) I couldn’t stop thinking about Miss Reynolds. I never really talked to her while she was just a coworker, but she became department head after her first year of teaching, over coworkers that had already made tenure like myself. Now, two months into her second year, I was finally getting to know her; she was every bit as big a bitch as my friends made her out to be.

She had transgressed her (hers or yours? might work better saying she'd transgressed my boundaries) boundaries, and I hated her for it, but there was no way I was going to let others know that I was assaulted by a four-foot-eleven white woman (this implies, but doesn't say, you aren't white, is this a part of the story? if so why don't you use it or at least make it clearer? otherwise drop the white and make it just woman). I thought I could keep my class under control and evade the wrath of Gertrude Reynolds.

I was wrong.

-----

The following day of class went even worse than the prior,( This is another sentence that's a bit awkward; simplify and restructure) but I tried my best to handle the crises one by one. First period brought an unusually surly Michael Wilkin. He tried to push me when I told him he would not be allowed (wasn't allowed) to play Gameboy during class. Security discovered three empty bottles of Dayquil in his backpack. Second and third periods were managed with the mere threat of referrals, but even that nuclear option failed when it came to sixth period.

Normally, the Young twins (not an error just throwing in unnecessary confusion, since they are fictional maybe rename them from the Young twins to the Bilbokin twins or something.) sit in the back of the classroom and quietly pass notes to each other, but they spent the entire day whispering to the boys in front of them, slowly escalating until their voices could be heard across the entire classroom.

“Kim, Laura, please be quiet while I’m talking,” I commanded. (Sorry this fellow just doesn't pull off command maybe he asked)

They smiled and ignored me and got louder and louder until I had to scream to get my message across. They both shut up, but a thirty seconds later Gertrude poked her head into the room.

Her blue eyes locked on to me from behind the dangling strands of her blonde hair. “Is everything under control here?” she asked.

“Yes, everything’s fine,” I responded nervously, memories of her intimidating tactics fresh in my mind.

“It doesn’t sound fine. Stop by my office after school.”

The classroom erupted in mocking taunts, my students having picked up that I was in trouble. Blood rushed to my face, and I retreated to my desk in silence, brooding as my class worked on their homework for the rest of the period.

What had motivated her to act so brazen in front of my students? Teachers are supposed to show solidarity with each other, not help turn students against the faculty. I’d never felt so embarrassed in my life.

The day ended. I spent twenty minutes grading homework before walking through the deserted halls to Gertrude’s office. The door was open.

“Close the door,” she commanded from behind her office desk, her eyes momentarily diverted from the stack of papers in front of her.

I complied.

“Why are you late?”

“I’m not late.”

“Yes, you are. I told you to come here after the school day ended, which was over twenty minutes ago.”

“I…”

She rose from her desk and threw her marker at me, dotting my shirt with red ink. “No excuses! You’re late, and you have to make amends for it.”

“What is your problem? You won’t make an effective department chair if you act like that.”

“Don’t tell me how to do my job, you spineless worm. You can’t even keep your classes under control.”

I stood from my chair and looked down at her, trying to use my physical superiority despite knowing that I would never hit a woman. “I didn’t ask to teach basic algebra. I came here to teach calculus to students that actually wanted to learn, not a bunch of inevitable dropouts.”

She reached forward and clenched my balls in her hands. “Don’t talk back to me. I’m your boss, remember?”

I could do nothing but stammer out a meager response. “Y… yes.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Her falcon-like grasp hurt my balls and spurred me to do as she wanted, lest I forever lose my boys. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” She unclenched her claws. “Now kneel.”

“What?” I asked, not believing my ears.

Her she reached to my crotch again and gave a quick squeeze. “Don’t make me ask twice.”

I instinctively collapsed to my knees and caressed with my balls with my hands.

Gertrude walked to the office door and locked it shut.

“What are you doing?” I asked, the blood rushing from my face, fearful of what the tiny little demoness had in store for me.

“Brian, can I ask you something?” she asked, her voice slowing down, making her sound almost sincere.

“Sure.”

“How on Earth did you manage to survive as a teacher this long?

Never before had I been so cruelly stripped of what I once took pride in. I tried to defend myself, “I already told you…”

She pinched my left ear between her thumb and ring finger, digging her nails into my skin. “Stop lying to yourself, worm. Whatever skill you once had is gone. You’re worthless as a teacher, and it is making me look bad.”

My heart began to race, a mixture of fear and anger flooding my systems. She was crossing a line that nobody had ever crossed before, dragging me into uncharted territory. “Nobody cares about what you…”

A sudden slap across my face silenced me instantly. “No. No more words from you.”

I froze, unable to push myself to resist her demands.

“Good. For once you (change you to just) listen. Now pull down your pants.”

“Wha, what?”

She dug her nails deeper into my ear.

“Alright, alright.”

She slapped me again. “I said no more words.”

I wanted to plead, to ask why she was doing to this to me, what I could do to make it stop, but I didn’t. I slipped the silver pin out of my buckle and unfastened the zipper and button. My pants slid down to my ankles, revealing my solid-blue boxers.

“Good. Now, close your eyes, lie on your stomach, hands at your sides.”

I complied.

“Now, this might be cold.” She slid something cold and thin into my asshole.

I squirmed beneath the pressure and yelled as it entered my rectum. “What the hell is that?”

She ignored my protests and slid it in the rest of the way. “A reminder, you could say. So you remember to do your job well. You’re excused.”

My insides hurt more as I struggled to my feet; whatever she had shoved in my ass had begun poking my bowels. “What did you put in me?”

“That’s a surprise,” she laughed, “for whenever you can poop it out. Now get the hell out of my office. I have grading to do.”

My week would have been a lot more pleasant if I could have pooped it out, but hours on the toilet produced nothing but what looked like blood. Panicked, I headed for the emergency room.

“What the hell is that?” the doctor asked as he stared at the x-ray of my insides.

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly.

“Well, I should be able to get it out. Why don’t you go ahead and lay on your stomach.”

From my anus, he pulled the same red grading marker that Gertrude threw at me when our meeting began. “How did this get up there?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I lied, my face turning red with shame. What I thought was blood was just grading ink, a sad reflection of my own failure as a teacher.

I pulled my pants up and gathered my belongings. However, before I was out the door, the doctor asked, “Do you want the pen back?”

-------

I never told anyone what Miss Reynolds did to me that day. What kept me silent, I can’t say. Was it fear for my job? Shame of my (change to 'for permitting this') abuse? Or, the fact that nobody would believe that tiny Gertrude Reynolds could do something so horrible?

My class doesn’t get away with the crap that they used to, that’s for sure. I crack down on the slightest tests against (change to 'the moment anyone tests') my authority. I will bend my students to my will, lest Miss Reynolds bend me over to hers.

Copyright Razor7826

I do hope you try this over at the Library it's a winner though you might not get a lot of critical acclaim. Try not to take reviewers too seriouisly.
good luck
Mad Lews

[H Dean]

Pay no attention to Dean on this point. Real writers inevitably find editing removes about a third of what you originally wrote. For most of us it's a winnowing process. Leave it to Mr. H to use it for story inflation.

It should be noted
this is the case with writers who are over wordy and tend towards the superflous. Consice writers, like myself, find that the real writing takes place after the initial idea is on the page.

[Razor7826]

I love the minefield of mutually exclusive writing advice.

[Mad Lews]

It should be noted
this is the case with writers who are over wordy and tend towards the superflous. Consice writers, like myself, find that the real writing takes place after the initial idea is on the page.

That's probably true for those whose mind wanders as they attempt to fix those fleeting thoughts onto the electronic page. A little less adult libation might also help with that problem Dean.

wordfully yours
Mad

[H Dean]

That's probably true for those whose mind wanders as they attempt to fix those fleeting thoughts onto the electronic page. A little less adult libation might also help with that problem Dean.

wordfully yours
Mad

I prefer to think of it as liberation.

[H Dean]

I love the minefield of mutually exclusive writing advice.

Well, Mad and Lews are exclusive. They cheat on each other all the time, though. I, on the other hand, never cheat and never get exclusive...I just do things the correct way.

[Mad Lews]

Razor,
Best give us something to dissect or we may just keep sniping for your entertainment, Are you in need of an assignment?

Set your browser to
http://www.erotica-readers.com/ERA/G...ubmissions.htm
Take your time and browse through either the print or the e-market.
Many of the anthologies are looking for something in the one to three thousand word range.
Pick one that intrigues you, check the deadline and get cracking. We'll be happy to review it before you submit it, almost all of them pay a modest fee for accepted stories though some of the print ones limit payment to copies of the book.
Post your choice in a new thread. Best of luck we'll call it your next project.

Mad Lews

[Razor7826]

I'll have to mull these over; nearly all of these seem to be looking for either vanilla stories or supernaturalish, neither of which I am consistently interested in.

There might be something there for me, but like I said, I'll mull them over.

EDIT:

I do have some other projects of mine that could use some work.

1) A 1-chapter fantasy story. Almost done with it, just undergoing editing.

2) A multi-chapter story that I plan on finishing and posting all at once. Not anywhere near complete, the first chapter is.

Who knows how many other nearly finished stories I have sitting around this harddrive...

EDIT II: Hmmm, the first is definitely not my best work. Balancing 'Show, don't tell' in a short story without the length getting out of hand is remarkably difficult.

Oh, and I submitted Institute Play to the library a few days ago. It should be coming in the next update.

EDIT III: Okay, I don't hate this story nearly as much as I thought I did, though it is still too dark and rough for any of the contests, and still has the continuing problem of not focusing on the sex nearly enough for an erotica anthology. Any interest in my posting that as another assignment, or shall I dig into that publication list and wander outside my zone of interest? Or both?

[Mad Lews]

I think you might have some luck mulling and you might be able to use a revision of one of those not yet ready for prime time stories sitting there on your hard drive.


Erotic Fantasies http://www.hotspotbooks.co.uk/?hot=Your%20Fantasies
has open submissions (no deadline pressure) and is looking for a broad spectrum of fantasies. Its an English publication and they tend to be sticklers for grammar and formatting. Still it's a good experience to try. Check there site out and see what type of stuff they've accepted.

For the others sites, just remain aware of submission dates. E-publishers have a quicker turn around but there is something truely satisfying about being published on paper (or so I've heard )

I suspect you're up to this Razor giive it a shot.
Mad

[Nikita]

I hope I'm not too late to the party Razor. I know men who would love to meet vicious Gertrude.

Your story had my attention the whole way through, good pacing, characters that are at the opposite side of the spectrum, and a dilemma. Unfortunately, the dilemma that screamed to be resolved did not.

Ask yourself these questions

• What would I want to do to Gertrude?
• Should I let Gertrude to continue to humiliate the male character?
• What would happen if the students gave Gertrude a taste of her own medicine? You get the idea?
• Finally, the most important question, do YOU think the ending is good?

[Razor7826]

I intend on incorporating this characters into my 'Queen of Sorrow's Falls' series, should I ever reach the point in the story where they would become useful.

I see what you're getting at; how I left it is rather ambiguous, but I think it works for a story of that length.

1) I'd be too scared to do anything with her.
2) Hmmm....
3) I think Gertrude's students would be too afraid of her to ever try anything that severe.
4) Yes, I think the ending kind of goes both ways. Brian learns to discipline his class effectively, but he is now further under Gertrude's control. Brian is slightly submissive, but not enough to actually enjoy what Gertrude was doing to him. So, Brian is rather pleased with the ending.

[Nikita]

I intend on incorporating this characters into my 'Queen of Sorrow's Falls' series, should I ever reach the point in the story where they would become useful.

That's a shame, in my opinion. It is so close to being finished. You put some good work put into it. However, I'm impressed you are writing from a male sub point of view. There are not many stories in that category.

You could always incorporate this piece into your Queen of Sorrow's scenes later. Maybe you don't know this, but several 'known' authors have published parts of a story to see how it is received. Then they go on to incorporate it into a book they are working on.

If you want at least one example, contact me in pm and I'll tell you.

I see what you're getting at; how I left it is rather ambiguous, but I think it works for a story of that length.

What is the point of this exercise? I don't remember reading that the ending of a storyline be crafted to fit the length. I thought is was overall quality.

1) I'd be too scared to do anything with her.
2) Hmmm....
3) I think Gertrude's students would be too afraid of her to ever try anything that severe.
4) Yes, I think the ending kind of goes both ways. Brian learns to discipline his class effectively, but he is now further under Gertrude's control. Brian is slightly submissive, but not enough to actually enjoy what Gertrude was doing to him. So, Brian is rather pleased with the ending.

Okay, I'll buy 1. I think you know what to do about 2. Oh yes. Think about it. A slightly submissive male can be attracted and repelled by a Gertrude. It isn't always a sexual way, but, the interaction between the two has cause and effect.

Number 3 could go either way. Students already ignore him, that's why he got in trouble in the first place, right? They could play further into his descent into humiliation.

Tsk tsk tsk on number 4. I'm going to take back my jockstrap from Dean. Are you telling me that the point of the story is Brian gaining control over his class because he is further under Gertrude's control? So what?

If you are determined to stick with this ending at least expand on what he feels while she is exerting control. I mean real deep down admissions.

For example, let's take the part where Brian had to have Gertrude's marker fished out of his ass. He could have taken that marker home and put it someplace where looking at it would remind him of what it felt like when she shoved it in, the humiliation of having to have it taken out, or let your mind run wild. You can come up with better ideas. It is your story. I'm just trying to help here.

Go the extra mile Razor.

*hands jockstrap back to Dean*

[Razor7826]

- I already submitted the story to the library five days ago, so any further updates will not be reflected in the posted version.

- One of my least favorite tropes in erotica is the 'person gets sexually assaulted and ends up coming to some life-changing revelation about how they actually like it'. If Brian did like his abuse, he certainly wouldn't be admitting it to anyone, not even himself. I think the ending hints that Brian at least liked what happened a little. If he didn't, he wouldn't let her push him around.

[Mad Lews]

Actually Razor,

What I liked about the ending is the fact it gives the reader pause to think.
Brian has gone through an experience, endured humiliation, and in at least some manner it has transformed him.
He no longer puts up with crap from the kids.
The exact process and reasons for this change are hinted at but you let the reader decide. You leave them with their minds engaged and maybe a few new questions but that's not a bad thing.
It gives you an opening for new stories or new chapters if you wish, but certainly that's your call. It's the very believable experience and change that impresses me. Like you I'm a little skeptical about the " Rape me and I'll cum all over you" story line. It takes real skill to pull that off with any credibility and it's been done to death.

Yours
Mad Lews

[H Dean]

Well, now that I got my jockstrap back (thanks Nikita) I find myself agreeing with Mad or Lews - whoever is in charge of that body today. I liked the transformation - the ending. Nikita did ask the most important question, though. Did you like the ending?

[Razor7826]

Yes, I very much like how I ended it. Brian develops by the end of the story, but there is still plenty worth thinking about.

I'm working on what may be my true next assignment, one that I will attempt to get published. There is some slight BDSM content, though, so I don't know how welcome it will be in the various contests-- they seem more interested in vanilla sex than I am interested in giving.

[Razor7826]

I've uploaded five new pieces to the Library that are yet to be posted: three chapters of the Queen of Sorrow's Falls (Not my best work), Institute Play (Which was posted here), and heavily fetish-based fantasy one-shot.

[Mad Lews]

I've uploaded five new pieces to the Library that are yet to be posted: three chapters of the Queen of Sorrow's Falls (Not my best work), Institute Play (Which was posted here), and heavily fetish-based fantasy one-shot.

Maybe we can get some scribbling perverts to do some reviews

Mad

[Razor7826]

Those chapters of mine are now posted.

I've not forgotten about this assignment; I'm pursuing a wide variety of stories right now, two or three of which could potentially turn into a submission for those publications. I'm not sure if my stories are perfect fits in terms of content and pacing, but I'll still try to complete them.

A few questions, though. If I do submit a story, I'd do it under another pseudonym. Any ideas how pen-names work, legally (copyrights) and in terms of payment (who are the checks made out to?).

[Mad Lews]

Those chapters of mine are now posted.

I've not forgotten about this assignment; I'm pursuing a wide variety of stories right now, two or three of which could potentially turn into a submission for those publications. I'm not sure if my stories are perfect fits in terms of content and pacing, but I'll still try to complete them.

A few questions, though. If I do submit a story, I'd do it under another pseudonym. Any ideas how pen-names work, legally (copyrights) and in terms of payment (who are the checks made out to?).

The perfection of the fit in terms of pacing and content is between you and the editor/ contest judge. they'll let you know how you did by publishing or not. You can always ask for constructive feedback and who knows they may find the time. You can also get editorial and content help here before submitting it. either by posting it in this thread or sending it by pm.

As far as pen names, they are good for copyright claims (try to be original) but are not used for payment. They will require your true name/ address/ e-mail account/ paypal address/ or some such nonsense to start the big bucks flowing in your direction. Usually this is explained in the submissions guidelines.

Yours
Mad